Truth or Suicide
by NanoKitty
Summary: When nightmares come true and the present meets the past, the only way out . . . is through. It's Truth or Suicide.
1. Chapter 1

Storm Hawks:

**"Truth or Suicide"**

(This story takes place after episode (36 – 210) "Scouts Honor"

and after my fanfic "Something Like That")

Rated T.

Disclaimer: Storm Hawks is a Nerd Corps Entertainment, Inc. Original Production.

**When nightmares come true and the present meets the past, the only way out . . . is through. It's Truth or Suicide.**

**Stork centric, but all involved. While it is not required to read my last fic "Something Like That" – this story does reference events from that title.**

* * *

><p>"Incoming!"<p>

Stork winced as a thick, viscous glob of goo sailed over his head and hit the _Condor's_ windshield with a sickening splat. It slowly slid, smearing a glistening virescent trail down the length of the glass. "Aaaand . . . so it begins."

"Ooops, sorry!" Junko shrugged sheepishly, an apologetic grin on his face. The Wallop snagged a wrench in his left hand and tried to pry Radarr out of the sludge oozing down the windshield.

The green-skinned helmsman's fingers tightened on the thickly-bound book in his hands and he gritted his teeth, intent on ignoring the goo dripping onto the ship's navigation panel – the aftermath of Piper's lame dare to Junko involving her slimer crystal and a left-handed spanner. Even though the viscous slime was bound to cook into a noxious sheen coating the navigational array – if the pungent smoke wafting from the console was any indication – he was determined not to get involved. Cleaning up after someone else's _Dare_ only encouraged them. Stork nervously let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He just wished he had a good reason to excuse himself from the game. He'd rather be working on the _Condor's_ systems – but there was nothing left to fix . . .. Actually, the carrier was currently in wonderful shape, as he had been evading the others by spending an inordinate amount of time repairing the ship – pretty much whenever he wasn't actively at the helm.

Stork twitched, fighting a sudden surge of anxiety. Involuntarily, his eyes darted to Aerrow, who was leaning casually against the bridge railing. Since saving the rest of the squadron from being changed like Dark Ace, he'd felt uneasy around the rest of the team – especially the Storm Hawks' Sky Knight.

With a pop, a rip, and a screech, Radarr detached from the windshield. Stork ducked as the small copilot flew overhead, leaving a patch of light blue fur stuck to the window.

"Don't worry, Radarr. I've got you!" Both Aerrow and Radarr went down in a tangle of arms, legs, and tail – and taking most of the Storm Hawks down with them. His teammates knocked against one of the _Condor's_ steam-work pipes before collapsing to the deck. With a shrill whistle, a thin, white puff burst from the bent pipe.

"Got it!" Junko yelled. The Wallop easily straightened the pipe. A chorus of laughs and giggles erupted across the bridge as everyone untangled themselves.

"Don't we endure enough terror, destruction, and ruin without _actively_ inviting it?" Eye twitching, Stork dampened his finger and turned another page of _1001 Terrible Inflictions and the Hopeless Means of Fighting Them_ without actually reading the entry on parasitical-marrow-rot-blight. The Merb pressed two fingers to his temple, suppressing the low buzz of anxiety that haunted him ever since he had faced Master Cyclonis in the Cyclonian empress' lathestone-induced nightmare. The whole parasomnia ordeal had reopened old wounds and stranded certain memories too close to the surface of his mind. Past memories best left there – in the past.

"Come on, Stork, it's our turn!" Finn jumped up. His clenched fists vibrated near his face with barely contained enthusiasm. "Gimme your best shot!"

'Finn's been angling to get paired up with Stork's challenge for the entire game.' Watching his wingman, Aerrow shook his head, a wry smile touching the corner of his mouth. Not only was playing _Truth or Dare_ fun, but it made for excellent team training. The Sky Knight sighed. 'And boy, it's needed now more than ever.' Aerrow thoughtfully pursed his lips, his bright green eyes running over his squad. Perhaps his helmsman's obsessive repairs to the ship was a good thing. He didn't know why, but it seemed that the _Condor_ had been the Cyclonians' center target, unlike normal when he drew most of the enemy fire. For the last few weeks, they had been literally hounded by the Talons.

That in addition to the fact that Cyclonis' minions were also outdoing themselves wreaking mayhem all over the atmos. Aerrow's eye fell on the tactical map spread on the mission table, brightly-colored flags marking each spot where something had been hit. 'Somehow they've managed to steal countless of Atmos' landmarks without a trace. The crystal processing plant from Terra Nord, the Sky Knight council building from Terra Atmosia, the entire _Wayside_ . . .!'

Piper caught the squad leader's glance and raised her eyebrows, pointedly rolling up the map that was sitting on the round mission table. She shook her head. He'd promised not to worry about the Cyclonians during their game night – they all needed the break.

Aerrow flashed the crystal specialist an apologetic smile – which abruptly faded again as his gaze fell on Stork. The Merb helmsman was shaking, the book in his hands trembling with his efforts to maintain a casual mien. Aerrow grunted, a frown tugging his lips. Stork was nothing like the other Merbs they'd met. If anything, the perpetually nervous pilot was a polar opposite from the young Sky Scouts and the Merb who had transported them to and from the _Condor_. Eyes narrowing in concern, Aerrow crossed his arms, his frown deepening. The only time the carrier pilot seemed to be back to normal – if what Stork was could even be classified as normal – was when he was at the helm.

Unaware of his leader's scrutiny, Stork cocked an eyebrow at Finn. The spiky-haired marksman was literally bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Hmmm." He pretended to consider, then with a dismissive wave turned back to pretending to read his book. "Not interested."

"Not interested?" Finn's whole demeanor sank, his face a study of disbelief. "How can you not be interested? Stork, _Truth or Dare_ is like your all-time favorite! Okay, so you, like, always choose _Truths_ to minimize the risk of 'meeting an untimely demise' . . . which I might add, is totally lame because you have no secrets for the rest of us to ask about . . .."

Finn paused in his tirade long enough to hop over the back of the couch, landing seated beside Stork with his feet up on the round mission table in his 'Cool Dude' pose. Sure, the Merb pilot was as dull as drying paint – so much so that the rest of the team was hard-pressed to come up with any new questions at all. But that was beside the point. Finn put a hand on Stork's book, pressing it down to ensure the helmsman's undivided attention. ". . . but your _Dares_ are absolute killer, dude!"

Startled, Stork flinched away from Finn, but before he could move from the couch, Junko bunged up on the other side of the helmsman, smashing the green-skinned Merb between the two of them. "Ooooh yeah! Like when you dared us to tape 'I'm with stupid' . . . and 'we're doomed' signs on Ravess' and Snipe's backs! Ha, ha, _with_ arrows." The thickly-built Wallop took a breath to calm his laughter. "And then . . . and then Dark Ace came up between the two and so the arrows were pointing right at him!"

"Oh, yeah! That was great!" The assembled Storm Hawks – sans Stork – burst out laughing at the remembered mayhem. Piper had even brought her camera. The resultant picture was priceless enough to win extra points and the game. The photo was still hanging on Aerrow's wall as a trophy of one of their best game-training nights ever. Of course, leaving a copy of the picture for Master Cyclonis only sweetened the _Dare_ even further.

"So, Stork? Give me a really good _Dare_. Like last time!" Finn clasped his hands and favored the Merb helmsman with his very best puppy-dog eyes. "Pleeeeease!"

"No. Thank. You." Pale yellow eyes twitching, Stork sucked in a steadying breath and snatched back his book. He un-wedged himself from between Junko and Finn.

'Now _that's_ unexpected.' A thoughtful frown tugged at Aerrow's lips. Despite the marksman's annoying behavior, very few could resist Finn's puppy-dog eyes. And yet Stork did. 'Brushing off Finn like that is like kicking a puppy!' Aerrow watched as Stork nervously backed toward the large glass timepulse globe, his shoulders spasming. Despite the game's ship-wrecking potential, they were playing on the bridge instead of in the hangar bay like normal because the carrier pilot flat-out refused to leave the helm. Not only did their training games provide plenty of opportunity for improving their skills and relieving tension from battling Cylconians; those were just side benefits really, it primarily provided bonding for his squadron family.

'But it's failing.' Aerrow's eye settled on the Merb's face. He was dismayed to see Stork look longingly at the door. 'At least where Stork is concerned.'

Sensing the pilot's immanent flight, Radarr tugged at a lock of Aerrow's spiky red hair and chittered in his ear. Almost subconsciously, the squad leader shifted over to the doorway leading to the rest of the ship, effectively blocking his helmsman's retreat. He wouldn't abandon Stork to face whatever was bothering him alone.

The Merb's eyes locked briefly with his Sky Knight's and he cringed. It maybe wasn't fair that his gut reaction instinctively associated Cyclonis' nightmare-Aerrow with the real one, but life wasn't fair – it was just fairer than death, that's all. A sickening knot of dread clenched his gut and Stork looked away. He anxiously clutched his book to his chest and forced his eyes instead to the Storm Hawks' sharpshooter. "Fine. Finn, I dare you to retrieve a class b, reverse thread Rex Guardian wingnut from the assorted spare parts storage unit in Junko's room."

"_What?_ Where's the fun in that? I want something exciting, challenging, something to get the old blood pumping! Something heroic!" Finn jumped to his feet and struck a grandiose pose. He held the posture a moment, but slowly deflated when nobody said anything. "Go fetch a wingnut from Junko's closet. Sheesh, I had more of a challenge getting the trance helmet replacement parts than this. It's even lamer than Piper's slimer crystal _Dare_."

"Have you _seen_ Junko's closet?" Piper interjected and tapped a finger on his chest, irritated that Finn criticized her _Dare_. "Trust me. It's all the danger you can handle."

"Hey!" Junko objected. "My closet isn't that bad . . . uh, usually."

'When it comes to targets, Finn is spot on, but when it comes to people, he often misses the mark.' Aerrow found himself tuning out his team's banter. It hadn't taken many _Truth or Dare_ sessions for the Storm Hawk leader to realize that Stork chose to answer _Truths_, not because he hadn't any secrets, but because the Merb was so reticent that his teammates really didn't know the right questions to ask. 'It's all too easy to assume, really, that he has no secrets,' Aerrow pondered. 'And if we ever chance to hit upon one, Stork manages to answer without really answering.' Aerrow's eyes narrowed. He remembered Piper asking Stork why he was so nervous all the time. The carrier pilot efficiently sidetracked them all with a question of his own: Wouldn't you be if you had the mental capacity to fully realize how tenuous one's grasp on life really is?

Aerrow shook his head, murmuring to himself. "Man, I just wish I knew the right questions to ask." Sighing, he plucked Radarr from his shoulder and set the lemur-like creature down beside Piper.

"Stork? You know we're here for you, right buddy?" Aerrow moved up beside his pilot. He reached out to place his hand on the Merb's shoulder, but stopped when Stork flinched even before contact. Finn was right about one thing, _Truth or Dare_ was one of Stork's favorites. Usually the Merb was a horror during this game, because the _Dares_ he issued were so suicidal. In fact, the rest of the Storm Hawks even had a running 'dare' of always choosing a _Dare_ from Stork instead of a _Truth_. Until now, the system really worked. Aerrow expected Stork to have Finn fetch the wingnut from Harrier's personal skyride without the arrogant Rex Guardian knowing and then returning it the same way – or more likely from the Colonel's private racing yacht. "What's wrong?"

Stork fought the sudden surge of panic clenching his chest. A defensive sneer curled Stork's lip. "Is that your _Truth_?"

Ignoring Finn's indignant 'hey, it's still my turn,' Aerrow held up a hand to silence the sharpshooter. The changes in Stork's demeanor worried him. He could pinpoint _when_ things changed with the helmsman – their last stop on Terra Tropica when the _Condor's_ air conditioning failed – but he could not identify _why_. 'We all were out of sorts back then . . . heck, I even entertained the notion of a treaty with Cyclonis . . . but of course, we didn't seriously consider it.' Except for his bad dreams – something about a whip that was _still_ somehow disturbing – nothing had happened. The Sky Knight wondered if the night terrors his helmsman experienced while his trance helmet was broken had anything to do with it. Determination and compassion warred in the Sky Knight's emerald eyes.

"If that's how you want to play it. Yes, it is."

Quavering beneath his leader's stern gaze, Stork instinctively hunched his shoulders, hiding behind the black curtain of his hair and struggling with the answer. Involuntarily, his left eye twitched. Perhaps he really _should_ tell his leader of the lathestone attack, but – it was so hard to trust. Stork jittered a step back, pressing his back against the _Condor's_ timepulse globe. Besides, what would be the point? And once his Sky Knight realized that his own dream was ripped straight from his pilot's memories? A bunch of awkward questions, pitying looks, and – in the end – nothing accomplished.

Breathing out a nervous sigh, Stork dismissed Aerrow's question. He already installed filters in the _Condor's_ ventilation system to avoid crystalline contamination again. He'd taken care of the problem, fixed what was broken. It was best to ignore the whole thing and try to move on.

Stork turned back to his book, yelping when an alarm suddenly blared. Lunging for the helm, the green-skinned Merb checked the readout. It showed a massive energy spike off the starboard side. At the same time, a small light on the dash began flashing incessantly – a distress signal. Relief flooded through his frame, washing the anxiety from his gut. "Huh. Saved by impending doom. Go figure."

* * *

><p>"Uhh, we've lost the distress signal." Pulling back on the helm, Stork cut the impeller as soon as the frozen peaks of Terra Edmontonia rose into view. Another massive energy spike registered at the same time a flash of amethyst flared along the icy surface of the terra before quickly fading. Frowning, the carrier pilot pulled into a low-fly path over the snowy terrain, muttering to himself and scanning the terra below them. "Um, correction. We've lost the whole research base."<p>

"Grr! Too late again!" Slamming a first on the bridge rail, Aerrow moved to peer out the _Condor's_ windshield. Stork was right – the entire vehicular research center was missing, the ground where it had stood scooped clean of rock and ice alike. He rubbed his stinging fist. "_How_ are they doing this?"

Finn and Junko were already seated at the starboard and port crystal blaster cannons, but they had no targets. Aerrow signaled them to stay ready just in case.

The Storm Hawk leader turned to face his crystal mage. "Piper, can you get a reading? Any way we can track their movements? They've been running circles around us!" The few days' lull in the Talons' thieving streak had been all too brief. If past performance was any indication, the Cyclonians would hit anywhere from two to four more targets, then again fall silent. A determined frown tightened Aerrow's lips. The Storm Hawks were going to catch them before that happened.

"Already on it, Aerrow." Piper clutched her long-range crystal analyzer in one hand and held Stork's peepers to her eyes with the other. "I don't think . . . wait! Here it is!" Excited, Piper tossed the multi-lensed binoculars to Aerrow and checked the dial on her analyzer. "I'm picking up residue from some sort of highly tuned beacon crystal. If I can calibrate the crystalline matrix to resonate with the residual emissions . . .." Piper trailed off, running calculations through her head. A sudden, bright smile lit her face. She tapped in an equation, then briskly stepped over to the helm and showed the analyzer readout to Stork. "I can do better than track them, Aerrow. By tracing the unique energy signature of the targeting crystals we can predict where they will strike next, which will be . . .."

"Terra Aquanos!" Shifting away from Piper, the Merb helmsman gritted his teeth and hit the impeller. The _Condor_ blasted forward, the sudden movement of the ship knocking his teammates from their feet. "Heh, heh. Strap in, everybody." Stork warned belatedly, an evil grin spreading over his face as the carrier jetted through the clouds. "Warning of potential doom due to excessive G-forces."

"Right. Strap in." Finn wryly picked himself up off the deck floor and pulled himself back into the cannon's operator seat. He and Junko had barely pulled in the cannons in time to avoid them being ripped off with the speed. "Give us a little more warning next time, will ya?"

"Hang on!" The craggy, watery terra home to the Neck Deeps squadron rose into view and Stork hit the retro blasters. Movement at the cloudline caught his eye. A squad of Cyclonian fighters orbited the base of the terra once, then vanished in a streak of amethyst, snagging a massive chunk from the terra's support pillar along with them. "The Talons have breached the columnar basalt! We have a 98.7% chance of catastrophic doom pending."

Quaking, the mostly aqueous terra jolted sharply, then slowly listed to one side. A huge crack snaked up from the damaged support, dropping chunks of stone and debris to plummet through the clouds and spilling water into the wastelands. A low tocsin alarm rose from the damaged terra and the entire fleet of resident ships scrambled to launch into the air.

"Stork!" Aerrow shouted and lunged toward the helm, but the carrier pilot had already shoved the _Condor_ toward the falling terra. The green-skinned Merb hit the grapple moor release, snagging a jagged peak with the ship's docking cables in an attempt to slow the terra's plunge. He hit the reverse thrusters and kicked on the impeller, grimacing as the _Condor's_ engine whined under the sudden drag.

"Come on, baby . . .." Panicking, Stork threw back his weight, straining at the helm. The overhead lights on the bridge flickered as the shuddering engine array labored under the load, then overheated. A cascade of steam-work pipes popped all over the bridge. "It's. Not. Enough!"

"Emergency stations, everyone!" Aerrow yelled as the Storm Hawks scrambled to patch the whistling pipes. Junko held the pipes in alignment while Radarr sealed them. "We can do this!"

"Correction – that's now a 100% chance of catastrophic doom!" Grunting at his Sky Knight's words, the carrier pilot nonetheless cut all subsystems, rerouting all available power to the engine block. He wasn't convinced. Beneath their feet, the _Condor_ shuddered again as it quickly and steadily dragged toward a hideous, ship-shattering death in the wastelands. The crack in the terra's basin widened, the stream of leaking water abruptly mutating into a roaring cataract. Clouds of steam billowed up from the wastelands where the water hit the scorching lava, buffeting the _Condor_ with sudden thermal turbulence.

"Glad ta see ye, Storm Hawks. Thanks ta the time ye've bought us, we've got our fleet launched." The deep voice of Tritonn, the Neck-Deeps' Sky Knight, crackled over the com system. "Steady on. We be coming up ta larboard." The squadron's carrier ship, the _Skyquod_, surged up through the billowing steam, harpooning the rock and lending its engine power to the _Condor's_. To either side, an entire fleet of deep-sky fishing vessels followed suit. The crack of harpoons locking into stone rang over the tintamar of shattering rock and rushing water. Painfully, Terra Aquanos' terrifying slide to the wastelands slowed, finally stopping altogether before sluggishly reversing direction.

"We need to plug that leak!" Aerrow turned toward Piper and the crystal specialist nodded briskly. She scooped the forgotten slimer crystal from the floor, digging frantically through her pockets.

"On it." Piper triumphantly pulled out a bright red eruption stone and a tallow congealer crystal. The crystal mage swirled the three crystals together, sprinting toward the ship's onboard cannon. With a final tap, the dark-skinned girl stuffed the dully glowing stones into the cannon's crystalline intake. "Finn, nail the crack!"

"Got it!" The blonde-haired sharpshooter leaped back into the seat, swiveling the cannon and bringing its nozzle to bear. He pulled the trigger, and a chartreuse mass of rapidly-expanding gunk erupted from the barrel. Sweeping the fountain of goo over the fissure in the terra, Finn efficiently sealed the breach, a cocky grin on his face. "Chicka-cha!"

"Aaand, there goes the cannon." Stork muttered beneath his breath. The _Condor's_ energy cannon would be unusable until he cleaned the gunk from it. Relieved that the situation was looking somewhat less cataclysmic, the Merb pilot let out a shaky breath. He snagged Piper's long-range crystal analyzer from the floor with one foot. He checked the readout and, verifying that the Neck-Deeps had the situation under control, released the carrier ship's grapple moorings and zoomed off again.

* * *

><p>"Whoa! What's up, Stork? The Neck-Deeps might still need our help in disaster cleanup." Junko smashed against the wall, cratering Finn beneath him. The Storm Hawks picked themselves up off the floor again, only to get knocked from their feet when Stork abruptly hit the emergency All-Stop button. The <em>Condor's<em> safety chutes and landing gear deployed, jerking the carrier ship to a halt.

"Ow," holding his head, Aerrow pushed up from the floor. "Huh? Whoa!" His bright green eyes widened. Seen through the windshield, an entire squadron of Talons swooped in for a strafing run over Terra Rex. The Storm Hawk leader's eye caught on a flash of crimson and he sprinted for the skimmer launch deck, scooping up Radarr as he ran past. "We actually made it to a strike-point before the Dark Ace could take it out. Skimmers, now!"

Wincing as Dark Ace blazed across the _Condor's_ nose, Stork retracted the breaking chutes and landing gear, then shoved at the helm and sideswiped the enemy fighters away from the mountainous terra. In the corner of his eye, he saw the rest of the Storm Hawks take to the air.

"Curse it!" Dark Ace scowled, visibly displeased with the sudden appearance of the Storm Hawks. They couldn't afford to miss this objective after the screw-up at Terra Aquanos – they were aiming for an underwater settlement, not the support column. Master Cyclonis wanted cowed terras to rule, not demolished ones. He banked his skimmer hard, trying to dodge around Aerrow.

Aerrow pulled his twin lightning blades and leapt onto the wings of his skyride. But instead of drawing his own sword and meeting the challenge, Dark Ace rolled his Talon Switchblade Elite into another dive for the terra surface.

"What the . . .?" It wasn't like the Dark Ace to refuse to face him. 'He must really be serious about nailing his target.' Grim determination etched itself on Aerrow's face. "That's not gonna happen!"

On the ground, the Rex Guardians tried to scramble and join the battle, but the Talons strafing their landing strip kept them pinned down. At Aerrow's signal, Piper dove down to assist them.

Stork's eyes widened as he surveyed the scene. There were a lot more enemy fighters about than normal. "Yep, we're doomed . . . again."

The sharp staccato of energy strikes beat against the forward plating, and the pilot yanked the helm sharply to the side, smoothly rolling the _Condor_ out of missile range. The horde of Talon skimmers broke off their attack, but a few banked with the move, shadowing the carrier ship. An evil grin sliding onto his face, Stork pushed on the throttle, igniting the _Condor's_ crystalline engines and frying the unfortunate enemy vehicles caught in the blast. A bouquet of Cyclonian parachutes blossomed behind him. "Heh, heh, heh. Tailgating is hazardous to your health."

"Cool move, Stork. Saved me the trouble of smacking them down myself." Rocketing past on his skimmer, Finn flashed the helmsman a complimentary finger-pistol before turning back to the battle. The spiky-haired sharpshooter popped a bolt into the retractable crossbow mounted on his ride and drew a bead on an enemy fighter.

"Bogey at 6 o'clock! Right on Finn's tail." Seeing Snipe's heli-blade suddenly rise behind the wingman, Stork gripped the helm tighter. A sharp knot of anxiety slammed into his gut. It was unusual to have more than one Talon commander overseeing a battle. If Snipe was here as well as Dark Ace, the Storm Hawks really had their work cut out for them. The carrier pilot jabbed the com-link open and tried to warn Finn. But instead of connecting with the Storm Hawks' wingman, only sharp, arrogant violin music echoed through the line. "What? Ravess is here too? What do the Rex Guardians have that brings all three of the top Talon Commanders?"

Off the starboard, Junko rose up behind Snipe. Together the Wallop and the marksman tag-teamed the bruiser of a Cyclonian and harried the small fleet of Talons under his command.

"Not the Rex Guardians, Storm Hawk." Plum colored lips pulled back into a sinister smile. With Dark Ace and her _dear_ brother to mess things up, Ravess was sure that the Storm Hawks would manage to disrupt the mission – and when they did, she would have a peace offering for her master. She wouldn't destroy the _Condor_; Master Cyclonis' standing orders were to capture the Storm Hawk alive. Ravess loaded her bow. "I'm coming for _you_."

Pale yellow eyes widening in panic, Stork looked up to see the musical perfectionist bearing straight into the _Condor's_ flight path, a haughty smirk coloring her lips. Her personal violinist flew behind, accompanying the commander and usurping the Storm Hawks' communication lines with tonal discord. Stork briefly struggled with a surge of unpleasant memories, then he wadded up the fear in his gut and shoved it aside. It was only emotion, after all. Anger and determination took its place. At least while fighting, the troubling memories wouldn't bother him. The Merb locked the _Condor's_ onboard blasters onto the Talon violinist jamming the airways. He pulled the trigger, blasting the sucker and sending him and his airway-jamming violin parachuting into the wastelands. The Storm Hawks needed to be able to communicate with each other. He yanked his eyes back to Ravess.

The Cyclonian perfectionist drew back her bow, a trio of obsidian-tipped arrows leveled directly at him. A portion of Stork's mind noted that the ebon stones capping her arrows were not their usual color. "Ohhh crud. This can't be good."

Alarmed, the helmsman shoved the _Condor_ into a nosedive, but the Cyclonian's crystalline arrows still glanced off the carrier, beating a triplet on the ship's hull. A sudden, syncopated, deafening bang heralded a blinding strobe burst of light as Ravess' flashbang stones struck the Storm Hawks' ship. The impact cracked the _Condor's_ windshield and shattered the gauges on the bridge.

"Aaaaah!" Suddenly flash-blind, Stork shook his head. He couldn't hear himself scream. The world had gone silent, save for a high-pitched ringing in his ears. Emitting a silent groan, the green-skinned pilot gritted his teeth, visualizing his last position and bearing. He knew where he was – the only trick was to figure out where everybody else was – and to avoid running down anyone he cared about. Shaking, the Merb pilot leaned on the _Condor's_ baritone horn, blaring out a warning to his teammates that he was coming through. His deafened ears couldn't hear the ship's horn, but he could feel its vibration through the deck underfoot.

* * *

><p>Neatly looping around, Aerrow dived in to help Junko out of Snipe's pincer attack. He swung his ride in front of the Cyclonian bruiser, and cut back on the throttle. "Radarr, try and distract Snipe for a minute."<p>

The small copilot chirped in agreement and wildly dug through the storage compartment of his sidecar. He plucked his ever-handy wrench from the dash and chucked it at the huge Cyclonian firing up their tailpipe. The heavy tool smacked Snipe between the eyes, making them cross, and the Cyclonian commander swerved, momentarily out of control.

"Good work, Radarr," Aerrow congratulated his copilot and swept his gaze across the battle. Below him on the airstrip, Piper and the remaining sky-worthy Rex Guardians finally finished off their Talons and headed for the skies. A pleased grin found his lips. They were winning. Aerrow kicked up his speed, turning sharply when a deep horn suddenly sounded. The rest of the Storm Hawks scattered.

"Finally!" Dark Ace gritted, scowling. He pushed his skimmer into a dive, managing to slip past Aerrow while the _noble_ Sky Knight was distracted by his teammates.

"What the . . .!" Snarling as the Storm Hawks' carrier pilot plowed right through his squadron, scattering his minions, the scarlet-eyed warrior fumbled his hold both on his skimmer and on the targeting crystal. He regained control of his ride, looping over the _Condor's_ observation deck to avoid being smacked from the sky. His eye caught on the Merb at the helm, and an evil laugh erupted from his throat. "So, you want to keep me away from Terra Rex? Fine. I'll just send a present to Master Cyclonis instead . . . a nice big one!"

Dark Ace slipped beneath the carrier ship and slapped a pulsing beacon crystal on the hull. He would initialize the warp crystal array, snagging the Storm Hawk to where his empress could do as she pleased with her new toy – soon. He just wanted to wait a moment, to see if he could trap Aerrow as well. He pulled back up beside Ravess and gestured to the musical commander. "Take the fight out of him."

With a smirk, Ravess drew her bow back again, releasing her coda of doom.

* * *

><p>"Come on . . . clear up already. I'd like to see the doom I'm heading for." The cacophony of battle slowly oozed back into semi-coherent sounds, and Stork blinked, willing the painful spots dancing before his eyes to clear. His vision slowly sharpened – to show both Ravess and Dark Ace dive-bombing the forward deck. "Uh, never mind."<p>

Ravess' arrows hit the _Condor_ squarely on the forward plating. The already-damaged windshield shattered into a fine webwork of cracks, and steam-work pipes burst all across the bridge. Fighting to maintain control even though he was again deaf and blind, Stork shakily reached for the high speed impeller. The two Cyclonian commanders were right in front of the _Condor_. He'd ram them out of the sky! With a metallic shriek, a hunk of armor plating suddenly tore free from the _Condor_. A hot flash of pain flared along Stork's temple as the metal bashed through the already-damaged windshield and blasted him from his feet, smashing him from consciousness.

"Stork? Stork! Pull up!" Seeing the carrier ship list alarmingly to one side, its nose dropping toward the terra, Aerrow flicked the com line open. The violin music was gone, but in its place was nothing but silence from the _Condor_. Peering through the carrier's shattered windshield, the Sky Knight could see that the Merb was not at the helm. "Storm Hawks! Form up and cover me, Stork's down. I'm going in."

The Storm Hawk leader flashed past Dark Ace and Ravess, disgusted at the Cyclonian commanders' looks of glee, and paced the decent of the plummeting carrier. Leaving control of his skimmer to Radarr, he leapt onto the _Condor's_ observation deck and snagged the metal railing. The Sky Knight wrestled over to the damaged window, struggling against the tearing wind. Careful to avoid the jagged edges, Aerrow heaved himself through the breech in the glass.

"Stork, say something." Aerrow's heart skipped a beat when he saw his helmsman lying on the shuddering deck, a nasty gash on his temple and a crimson pool spreading under his head. Shoving away the urge to check if the pilot was even still alive, the squadron leader lurched over to the console and grabbed the helm. If the ship cratered into Terra Rex, it wouldn't matter whether Stork bled to death or crashed and burned.

"Come on, . . . pull up!" Sweat beading on his forehead, Aerrow yanked the wheel back, attempting to pull the carrier's nose up and ease the ship's fall. Terra Rex rose relentlessly to fill the viewport. "How in the atmos does Stork do this?"

The Sky Knight had never really before realized how strong his helmsman must be in order to manhandle the _Condor_ the way he did. It was as if Stork had a special bond with the _Condor_ to get her where he needed her, and to do what he needed her to do. They were running out of time. Aerrow looked out the window. If he could just find Radarr, he could grab Stork and jump for it. The danger was too great to trust to his glider wings; the wind of the _Condor's_ passing would suck them down with the carrier. Even if they did survive, it would leave them extremely vulnerable during the battle. The Storm Hawk leader scowled as his gaze fell upon Dark Ace pacing the plunging carrier ship on his skimmer, an eager glint in his eye and a vile smirk on his lips.

"See you soon, Aerrow." The crimson-eyed Cyclonian threw a mock salute to the young Sky Knight, then held up a small crystal-studded control box and depressed the button.

* * *

><p>AN:

Left-handed spanner courtesy of _Star Trek_

Variation on the quote: "Life isn't fair. It's just fairer than death, that's all." from _The Princess Bride_ by William Goldman

Please drop me a review and share your thoughts!


	2. Chapter 2

Storm Hawks:

"**Truth or Suicide"**

(This story takes place after episode (36 – 210) "Scouts Honor"

and after my fanfic "Something Like That")

Rated T.

Disclaimer: Storm Hawks is a Nerd Corps Entertainment, Inc. Original Production.

**When nightmares come true and the present meets the past, the only way out . . . is through. It's Truth or Suicide.**

**Stork centric, but all involved. While it is not required to read my last fic "Something Like That" – this story does reference events from that title.**

* * *

><p>Gritting his teeth, Aerrow winced as the <em>Condor<em> abruptly twisted around him, distorting and warping in a sudden flare of amethyst. Outside the cracked windshield, Terra Rex vanished, a heavily forested landmass instead appearing in its place.

"What in the atmos?" Shocked, the Sky Knight ran his eyes over the unfamiliar area. Thick, marshy forest dominated the terra, dotted by a few large, green lakes and broken, jagged mountains in the distance. On the horizon, he could see a nearby landmass jutting through the clouds. Quickly, Aerrow rethought his plan. If he could not pull the ship out of its death-spiral, he could at least minimize the damage. He clenched his jaw and yanked the helm, now aiming the carrier's nose toward the largest and – he hoped – deepest lake on the terra. While far from perfect, it was nonetheless better than crashing into the wastelands or cratering into a mountain.

"Well, let's hope this works." Aerrow squeezed his eyes closed moments before the ship impacted the water. The ship jolted hard, smashing into the murky lake with a shock so jarring that Aerrow wondered for a moment if he had missed the water entirely. 'Well, I'm still breathing. That's something anyway.' Thrown violently in the crash, Aerrow hit the navigation panel and crumpled to the deck. 'Grrnnn, but not much.' The squadron leader groaned and painfully tried to push himself up, only to collapse again as an excruciating pain flared in his right shoulder, knocking him back to the floor and robbing him of breath.

Forcefully shoving the pain away, Aerrow shakily struggled to his knees. His emerald eyes widened in horror and he ducked as the _Condor's_ entire sunroof tore loose from its frame. Scrambling, Aerrow crouched beside the mission table as the roof hatch came crashing down beneath the weight of the water and stress from the crash. Bits of glass rained down with the cascade of lake water gushing through the large hole.

"Come on, Aerrow. Move!" the Sky Knight gritted out and staggered over to where he could see Stork lying still in the dark, swirling water. His injured shoulder throbbed agonizingly with every movement. He refused to look at it. If he didn't look, then he could ignore the obvious injury. His heart aching, Aerrow bent and scooped the Merb's head from the water with his good arm, relief flooding his frame when he saw the pilot's chest still rhythmically rising and falling.

"Now to get us out of here." Carefully pinning his helmsman's head against his left shoulder and clamping his hand over his nose and mouth so the Merb wouldn't drown, Aerrow fought his way through the cascade of water thundering into the command deck, hauling Stork after him, his injured arm hanging uselessly by his side. The _Condor_ was already underwater, the heavy drag of the lake overhead quickly pulling it down. Kicking with his legs, Aerrow pushed through the shattered windshield and tried to break free of the sinking ship's suction. The foundering carrier drew him back down, and he couldn't make any headway. 'This would be really hard even without my damaged shoulder and unconscious pilot. With those two things, it's impossible!'

'Plan B. Gotta come up with a Plan B.' Retreating back into the _Condor_, Aerrow squeezed them both back through the hole and bobbed up against the ceiling. A slowly diminishing bubble of oxygen was still trapped here, and he gasped for breath, struggling to keep the helmsman's head also above water. 'Actually Plan B ran out back on Terra Rex. I need a Plan E by now.'

Desperately, Aerrow cast his eyes about for an escape. Bits and pieces of flotsam were now floating about on the bridge, and Aerrow's eye caught on one of Stork's wooden emergency boxes. A stylized sketch of a strato-elf was emblazoned on its top. Frantically, Aerrow snagged the crate and, with effort, pried the lid off. The breathing helmets that the Merb made when the Storm Hawks launched into the stratosphere after Ravess were inside. He managed to grab one, but was unable put it on himself or on Stork without dropping the Merb. He tried to prop his helmsman on top of the crate, but it filled with water and sank. His shoulder really, _really_, REALLY hurt. He screamed in pain and frustration.

"Okay, okay. Something else . . .. But what?" Aerrow gasped wearily. He was tiring quickly from the effort it took to keep them both afloat, as well as the scorching pain in his shoulder. With consternation, he noted that the air bubble was almost gone. A cinch strap used to hold Stork's emergency preparedness kits in place floated by in the frothing water and a sudden thought struck the Sky Knight. He snagged the strap from the swirling water with his teeth and, drawing in a deep breath, covered Stork's nose and mouth again and allowed the black water to pull them under.

Aerrow and Stork sank to the floor in a tangle of ligan. Struggling to the control dash, Aerrow looped one end of the cinch strap on one of the pilot's custom-made levers then kicked back to the center of the bridge. With a quick prayer, Aerrow yanked the improvised pull cord, grunting in grim satisfaction when he felt – more than heard – the _Condor's_ trick springboard floor cock back with a heavy click. 'Well, here goes everything.'

Stork's booby-trap paused ever so slightly, then suddenly sprung upward, launching the Sky Knight and carrier pilot up through the swirling, dark water, up through the damaged sunroof, and out of the murky lake entirely. Aerrow unwrapped his fingers from Stork's mouth and nose when he felt them break through the surface of the lake and sucked in a grateful breath. As Aerrow soared into the air, a belated thought struck his mind. With Stork clamped in one arm and the other useless, the Sky Knight couldn't deploy his glider wings to ease their passage. 'Okay, this landing is not going to be good.'

Aerrow and Stork plunged back to the terra, hitting and snapping through a canopy of thick branches and vines on the way down. The now-forgotten breathing apparatus and other jetsam snagged in the boughs. An agonizing pain flared through the Sky Knight's injured shoulder as they hit the ground and, with a moan, Aerrow passed out on top of his pilot.

* * *

><p>"This is so not cool." Hanging upside down from high in a gnarled tree, Finn twisted around and tried to free himself. A brisk gust snapped him around again, its chill sneaking under his collar and sending shivers up his spine. Large, crenelated leaves rustled around him. The sky overhead looked weird – the clouds drooping in ropy pouches that hung from the bottom of an ominous anvil cloud. Stork would know the specific name for that particular form of doom hanging over him, but Finn only hoped that the impending storm would hold off until he could manage his way out of the tree. The Storm Hawk sharpshooter's ankle was caught in his crashed skimmer's wing joint, and while it wasn't painful, it sure was stuck good. "I've . . . got to . . . get . . . free!" Finn squirmed again, stopping when his gaze fell on the ground. It was a lot farther down than he had realized. "Oh man, why do these things always happen to me?"<p>

The wind suddenly gusted again. With a sickening lurch, Finn's skimmer slid a short distance down the contorted branch that it was precariously balanced on, snapping twigs and shredding the bark. The wingman caught his breath and froze. "Dude, if that thing falls . . .." Slowly Finn pulled himself up and gingerly worked on freeing his foot. With effort, he managed to unstick himself. The skimmer gave another stomach-turning jolt and the entire branch snapped, sending the heavy skyride plummeting toward the ground. Shrieking as he also fell, Finn smacked squarely into another thick branch. His eyes crossed and the air blasted from his lungs in a strangled squeak. Below him, the skimmer cratered into the forest floor, erupting into a raging fireball as the fuel crystals breached their containment.

"Well, that wasn't too bad." Finn caught his breath and, pleased with himself, scrabbled down the branch, clutching at the knobby tree trunk for support. A faint acrid smell caught his attention and he looked down.

"Aargh!" The tree was on fire! With a yell, Finn scrambled down the length of the trunk, then leapt over the flames to the ground. Patting himself all over to make sure he really was okay, Finn breathed out a sigh of relief. Aside from a few scratches and bruises, he was still in one piece. "Yes, I am awesome!" Finn looked around. With a start, the marksman realized he no longer possessed his weapon. He must have dropped the energy crossbow during the crash.

"Uh, hello? Anyone?" Finn hesitated, then amended, "oh, wait. No, not just anyone . . . Storm Hawks only need apply."

Finn paused, listening to the steady buzz of insects and rustling of life. When no one answered, his bravado leaked away and his heart dropped, his joy short-lived. Not only was his skimmer nothing more than a smoking wreck, but he was all alone – and he had no idea where the others were. And he had no idea where he was. He had regrouped around Aerrow as the Sky Knight dived after Stork, and he recalled getting sucked in Dark Ace's warp rift, caught in the _Condor's_ wake, but . . .. "But where am I?"

"First things first." Hastily scooping dirt over the fire to extinguish it, Finn carefully patted out the flames. "Don't want to burn down the forest – because I'm here. Wherever here is, as it certainly isn't Terra Rex anymore." Finn wiped the soot from his hands. "Besides, a smoke signal to the Cyclonians pointing me out is definitely not cool."

"Well, time to get going." The Storm Hawk briefly eyed his smoldering skyride, then left it at the base of the twisted tree. With a final glance at the suffocating globular blanket of clouds overhead, Finn picked his way through the swamp. Though he didn't know where the others were, he _had_ seen the _Condor_ go down. If anywhere, that's where the others would be. He hoped.

* * *

><p>"Grrrr! Oh for . . .!" Finn shoved another tangle of branches away from his face, stumbling as his foot sank in a patch of greenish-brown, sticky mud. "Ewww, now that's just wrong!" It was taking a lot longer than he expected to traverse the swampy forest, and he was getting frustrated. The spiky-haired sharpshooter pushed at another moss-draped branch hanging in his face – disgusted when it turned out not to be a branch at all, but a worm-like snake instead. Shuddering, Finn wiped his hands on his pants. A wide, murky lake lay sprawled before him, shore thick with cattails and rushes. Finn breathed a sigh, relieved to be free of the suffocating forest, and stepped from the trees.<p>

"That's what I said," Dark Ace snapped into his communicator. "I want a full Talon squadron posted guard at the crash site 24/7 until all the Storm Hawks are captured . . .. And I don't care how many we lose to the swamp in the process!"

Startled to see the Cyclonian commander here, Finn immediately dropped to the ground, pressing down into the mire and hiding from the Talons. The crimson-eyed warrior whipped around at the noise, but seeing nothing, turned back toward the lake.

"Why bother with capturing 'em?" Snipe laughed, giving his cohort a heavy poke in the ribs. The musclebound Cyclonian drew his crystal energy mace and smashed it into his other palm, a wide animalistic grin spreading on his face. "Let's smush them."

Finn's bright blue eyes widened when he saw Aerrow and Stork, unconscious and tangled together at the Cyclonians' feet – at least he hoped they were unconscious and not dead. His face twisted in anger. He almost rose, but caught himself in time, fists clenched in the mud.

"Believe me, I would like nothing more." Dark Ace sneered, and kicked the fallen forms. He'd much rather finish Aerrow now, but while Master Cyclonis particularly wanted Stork, she also wanted all the Storm Hawks alive. He kicked at Aerrow again and laughed. "Fortunately, Master Cyclonis said nothing about bringing them in whole."

"Oh man, oh man, oh man," Finn murmured beneath his breath. "This is so not good!" He anxiously bit his lip, wondering what to do. Piper was always the one with a plan! A surge of panic buzzed through his stomach and Finn suppressed the urge to run around, screaming, with his hands in the air. He gulped. His blind panic ebbed slightly, the sudden realization that he was the one who had to come up with the plan this time hitting him like a speeding freight carrier. "Responsibility really stinks." Remembering a ploy that he and Junko had employed during an earlier mission, the spiky-haired sharpshooter swallowed hard, scooped up a handful of mud, and squirmed closer.

Without further thought, Finn scrambled on all fours to Dark Ace's parked skyride. With a yell, he let the mudball fly, smirking as the gunky stuff splattered in the crimson-eyed warrior's face. Laughing, he leaped onto the heavily-armored skimmer, cocked back the wing release and kicked up the throttle all the way. Finn blasted off, flying just barely over the treeline and zigzagging in the high winds. "Sweet!"

"Snipe, gather up those two Storm Hawks! I will be right back – after I smear that annoying marksman into submission." Furious, Dark Ace dashed the mud from his eyes and leapt onto Snipe's heli-blade. Snarling, the enemy commander zoomed after Finn.

A cocky grin split his face as Finn careened over the treeline, branches and leaves whipping at his boots. He spared a glance over his shoulder, pleased – and more than just a bit alarmed – to see Dark Ace speeding after him. He was a little disappointed that Snipe wasn't riding with the jerk, but he wasn't surprised. Finn shrugged. He'd just have to take care of one thing at a time. Ripping a strap from his armor, the marksman tied the throttle down, bumped the steering a degree upward, and rolled off the skimmer. He crashed down through the trees, grinning up as he saw Dark Ace flash by overhead.

"Excellent! Finn, you are the man! This plan-making thing isn't as hard as it looks." Finn chuckled, brushing the twigs out of his hair. The Storm Hawks' wingman knew that while it wouldn't take Dark Ace long to realize that he had bailed, it would – with luck – buy him enough time. The Cyclonian commander's skyride was much faster than Snipe's heli-blade, though without a pilot it wouldn't be long before it crashed. Finn just hoped it would stay airborne long enough to give him a decent head start.

Sprinting back through the mucky forest, Finn made his way back to where his companions had fallen. Between bouts of strong wind, clouds of tiny biting insects swarmed around him. "Man, I could really use some of Stork's bug repellent right about now."

* * *

><p>"Now that's just creepy." Snipe's lip curled in disgust, a massive shudder rocking his frame. He paced a circle around the fallen Storm Hawks. Snipe reached out a hand to grasp the young Sky Knight, but quickly drew it back. The Cyclonian warily eyed Aerrow's misshapen shoulder, but he couldn't even force himself to look at the blood pooling around the Storm Hawk pilot. He tried again. "Aw, forget it!" Giving up, Snipe stopped and crossed his arms. "Dark Ace will just have to do it himself."<p>

Panting from his long run, Finn crept up behind the bruiser while he was distracted. The marksman casually slipped up next to Snipe, and tapped him on the shoulder. "Hi there tall, dark and gruesome." Grinning, Finn waved good-bye and yanked the Cyclonian's emergency ripcord. "Bon voyage!"

"Whaaaaa!" Snipe yelled as the wind caught in his parachute and tore him from his feet. The wind quickly bore him across the lake.

"Good job, Finn," Finn congratulated himself. "Why, thank you Finn. That trick with the parachute was rather clever, if I do say so myself." Now to get his companions out of there before Dark Ace returned. "And boy will he be ticked when he does."

His heart sinking, Finn pulled his gaze away from Snipe disappearing across the lake and dashed over to his fallen companions. Stork had a nasty gash on his head, blood still oozing from the wound, and Aerrow was sprawled on top of the helmsman, his shoulder a deformed lump. Suddenly lightheaded, Finn put a hand to his brow, then fell to his knees next to his companions. Panic rose in his gut. He didn't know what to do. He even knew basic first aid – but even Piper's first aid drills weren't sufficient for serious injury – and this looked serious. Finn grunted. Most first aid was nothing more than bandaging up the wounded to stabilize them and getting them to a doctor – which was impossible here.

"Come on, Finn. Ya gotta get it together." They at least had to get away from this spot if nothing else. Finn carefully checked his teammates' pulses – weak, but steady – and gingerly dragged the Sky Knight off of Stork.

". . . here? . . . still here? . . . not? . . ." The carrier pilot's pale yellow eyes fluttered open and he groaned. "Grnnnn. What happened? the _Condor_ run over me?"

Concern clouding his bright blue eyes, Finn helped Stork as the Merb struggled to rise. Worry turned to fear when the pilot staggered back to his knees as his stomach suddenly rebelled.

"Um, yeah Stork, I'm afraid so," Finn said, worry coloring his voice. The carrier pilot's normally green skin had turned a pallid shade of grey and he was shaking uncontrollably. Finn moved up behind Stork to put a gentle hand on his back.

Sensing the movement even through the pain and nausea, Stork yelped. Spinning around, the helmsman leapt to his feet and defensively hid behind his arms. The quick movement made him dizzy again and the Merb pilot staggered. "What happened? Where's the _Condor_? What, . . . where? No, no, no . . .. Where. Are. We? Wha . . . wha? No! WHERE. AM. I!" Confused, Stork dragged in a ragged gasp, his breath catching in his lungs. The last he knew, he was on the _Condor_ over Terra Rex. _This_ place looked like . . . looked like . . .. Stork clutched his head in panic, wheezing and struggling to clear the horror from his mind.

"Um, dude, I really hate to interrupt your panic, but . . .." Finn took a deep, steadying breath. "Look, Stork, I don't know where we are or where the _Condor_ is. But I do know that Aerrow needs help, and that Dark Ace . . . and possibly Snipe . . . will be back very soon." Finn peered into the carrier pilot's face, ensuring the Merb's undivided attention. "And I'm pretty sure we don't want to be here when that happens."

Eye twitching, Stork struggled to subdue his terror. Giving Finn the evil-eye, Stork rasped in another breath and shakily moved over to the fallen Sky Knight. He hesitated, warring with the dread choking him, then knelt beside him.

"Well, the joint doesn't seem to be broken," Stork murmured tremulously as he gently probed the injury. "Though Aerrow's shoulder is definitely dislocated. Unless we snap it back in joint before the muscle spasms lock it out of place, we're going to have a cataclysmic problem on our hands."

"We? Oh, come on, man." Finn paled and raised his hands, backing away. "Not cool. Are you sure that we have to?" In his heart, he knew that the helmsman was likely right – after all, it had been Stork who had developed the antidote for him when Cyclonis' canister turned him into a raging, hyperactive were-monster, not to mention that the Merb _was_ rather fond of his books on doom and destruction. The blonde human offhandedly wondered if Aerrow's injury had been in the book the pilot was reading earlier. Finn swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. The thought of having to do that made him ill. "But what if I mess up and make it worse?"

"Make what worse?" Stork's pale yellow eyes seemed oddly out of focus. "What happened?"

Finn stared at the Merb. "Uh, Aerrow's shoulder? Dislocated . . . remember?"

Stork squeezed his eyes closed a moment, then forced them back open. "Right. Okay Finn, you need to support Aerrow's upper body against yourself, then place one hand behind his shoulder and the other on top, like so."

"Like this?" Finn struggled to get himself and Aerrow positioned like the carrier pilot showed him. After a few tries, the sharpshooter had his leader secure. He looked up at Stork to find the Merb's unfocused eyes staring off to the side. "Stork, over here."

"What? Oh, right. Just be ready. I can most definitely say that we _really_ want to do this _before_ Aerrow wakes." Rolling his eyes, Stork shakily rolled Aerrow onto position, and, kneeling, straddled the Sky Knight. He carefully grasped his leader's upper arm with tremoring fingers. "Just place your hands steady on his shoulder, and when I tell you to, _push_."

"Oh man, oh man, oh man," Finn muttered nervously, shifting his hands slightly, but did as he was told.

"Now." Stork pulled Aerrow's arm hard, forcing the joint back into the socket with a loud, cringe-worthy crunch.

Eyes wide, Finn suddenly paled. His breath came rapid and shallow, and his vision darkened around the edges.

"Don't you dare!" Stork growled at the marksman. He needed the rash sharpshooter awake and able – if Finn fainted, there was no way he'd be able to get both Finn and Aerrow out of there before Dark Ace returned. His voice lowered threateningly. "You faint and so help me I'll feed you to the first bog howler we encounter."

Nodding, Finn gulped and forced himself to take a couple of slow, deep breaths.

The carrier pilot smiled grimly, pleased that Finn actually did as he was told. The helmsman put a shaky hand to his temple. His fingers came away bloody. He was feeling ill again, and his pounding headache made it hard to think. Anxiety squeezed at his chest. "What happened? Why are we here?"

"Come on, Stork, don't zone out on me now!" Finn called forcefully. He was starting to panic at the Merb's alternating fear and confusion. Was that normal for a head injury? "What do we do next?"

Wearily, Stork slipped off of Aerrow, sinking to the ground next to his leader. Dully, he untangled the strap dangling from the Sky Knight's fingers. "Finn, take this and bind Aerrow's damaged arm . . . tightly . . . to his body."

Finn opened his mouth to complain, but a glance at Stork's pained and drawn features silenced the protest. He felt really bad for Stork and Aerrow right now, and he worried about their missing teammates. Curtly nodding, the blonde-haired sharpshooter did as told. "You've been working out again, haven't you, Aerrow? You're awfully heavy."

Stork watched Finn struggle with Aerrow's dead weight, then allowed his eyes to slip closed. His ears twitched, the two small silver rings in his left ear vibrating ever so slightly, and with effort he forced his eyes back open. The Merb looked up, eyes scanning the horizon. The steady thrum of helicycle blades, mingling with the wind in the trees and a few rain drops, oozed into Stork's consciousness and he dropped his gaze back to Finn.

"Oh, good. You fixed Aerrow's dislocated shoulder. I didn't know that you knew how to do that. You should have told me. I could have helped." Confusion creased the pilot's brow, warring with his growing fear. "But if you're done, we should go. Something's coming."

"Just what we need, Stork's brains scrambled." The wingman uneasily watched Stork's confusion slowly retreat as terror shaded his eyes. "Come on. We'd better get out of here. It's probably Dark Ace . . . and he won't be amused." Silently, Finn grasped Aerrow's ankles and began dragging their injured leader back into the shaded forest.

"Foolish human," Stork murmured quiet enough that Finn couldn't hear the observation. He watched the wingman a moment, his mind and body aching with abiding pain – both physical and otherwise. Taking a deep breath, he gingerly lifted the unconscious Sky Knight and disappeared into the foliage, leaving Finn to trail behind.

* * *

><p>AN:

Please drop me a review - questions and comments are welcome!


	3. Chapter 3

Storm Hawks:

"**Truth or Suicide"**

(This story takes place after episode (36 – 210) "Scouts Honor"

and after my fanfic "Something Like That")

Rated T.

Disclaimer: Storm Hawks is a Nerd Corps Entertainment, Inc. Original Production.

**When nightmares come true and the present meets the past, the only way out . . . is through. It's Truth or Suicide.**

**Stork centric, but all involved. While it is not required to read my last fic "Something Like That" – this story does reference events from that title.**

* * *

><p>Finn bent, his hands braced against his knees to catch his breath when Stork finally stopped. The Storm Hawks' sharpshooter was astounded at how quickly and easily the Merb helmsman navigated through the moss-strewn forest. And while carrying Aerrow too. Wiping the muddy sweat from his brow, Finn looked around and wearily sank down onto a nearby rock. "You haven't asked 'what happened' for a while now. Your brain must be settling down."<p>

"I wouldn't sit there if I were you, unless you want umber-eyed-plague-spiders crawling up your back," Stork muttered grimly, eyes twitching, and carefully laid Aerrow down on the ground. Finn leapt to his feet, frantically trying to see over his shoulder at his own back.

The Merb was wiped out. Normally carrying Aerrow's weight wouldn't have been such a problem, but in his current condition, he barely managed it. "The storm will break soon." The carrier pilot drew in a shaky breath, covering his face with trembling hands for a moment before shrugging and moving off to inspect the broken form of a nearby fallen tree. Excellent. With the thick root system half exposed there was a gap under the tree that they could safely use without fear of the tree trunk crushing down on them while they slept. The wide roots and remaining branches would keep the log from rolling even if a giant-gallumpus roosted on it. "We should make camp here."

"What? We can't stop now, we haven't found anyone else yet!" Finn indignantly put his hands on his hips. He looked around. While the ground where they stood was no longer mushy, several large trees had fallen here, entwined in the thick undergrowth. A row of pale, squishy-looking fungus marched down one log. Disturbed, a cloud of biting insects rose up from the fetid tangle. "Besides, this is a terrible place to make camp!"

"It could be worse," Stork replied morbidly and sighed heavily. The thought reminded him of his recent camping trip with the three young Merb Sky Scouts. That trip had also ended in near disaster. He shook the thought from his head and winced, suddenly regretting the movement. "We have no supplies whatsoever. Though I have several emergency boxes," he was pretty much prepared for any type of emergency, "on the _Condor_. Which is missing." He gritted his teeth. "That's why I never leave the ship."

"Well, if you were on the _Condor_, you'd be missing too." Finn commented, and instead sat at the base of a tall plant – one of the many around the periphery of the campsite.

"Finn! Get away from there!"

Startled by Stork's yell, Finn jumped, narrowly avoiding the green-lipped maw of a carnivorous pod plant. The marksman shrieked in alarm and huddled close to Aerrow's still figure. If Stork placed their leader there, it must be a safe spot. Despite the fact that only Stork's paranoia had saved him from being eaten, Finn glared at the carrier pilot. "This is a _terrible_ place to make camp, especially since the campsite almost ate me!"

"Oh yeah. It's dangerous out here alright. It's just worse everywhere else." Stork's voice lowered ominously. "At least here we can use the pod plants as 'natural' traps to keep even worse things away from us. They are rooted to the ground and can't come . . . hunting us." Ignoring the marksman's look of incredulous horror, the green-skinned Merb moved to one side and began breaking off some of the rotting limbs of the fallen tree in order to clear out a space beneath it. He carefully tossed the discarded branches away in a random pattern. 'This would be much easier with my 'Marooned' emergency box . . . sadly back on the ship. I really need to make a remote control for the _Condor_.' Stork turned back to his teammate and his gaze fell upon Finn gathering up the branches he had just taken great pains to arrange naturally and placing them in a neat pile. A note of exasperation crept into his voice. "What are you doing, Finn?"

"Uh, making a fire?" Finn looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes. "What else? It's going to get dark soon . . . and you and Aerrow are still soaked. I'm pretty sure that hypothermia is one death you want to avoid." Finn flashed his friend a cocky smile. Not to mention that he was pretty sure the helmsman was suffering from shock.

"No, you're not," Stork growled darkly, stepping over Aerrow's form to regather the sticks and re-scatter them. "Even if we didn't have Aerrow to worry about, it is dusk . . . and you have no idea of the terrors that inhabit this terra at night . . . but I do!" Stork's voice deepened eerily, unnerving the cocky marksman. Briefly closing his eyes against the massive headache splitting his skull as well as against Finn's thickheadedness, Stork paused to inspect his work. An evil grin twisted his face. "Besides, the light might attract the Talons. Not that it matters. Might as well hope for a clean death, but knowing our luck, it won't be."

"Uh, ya know? that's kinda creepy," Finn subconsciously lowered his voice. Normally, he would chalk the helmsman's tone up to his incessant paranoia, but the Merb actually sounded like he knew what he was talking about. Finn paused. Of course, Stork's paranoia often got them out of otherwise inescapable situations. He hesitated, almost afraid to ask. "Um, Stork, what terra are we on?"

Finn's question twisted like a knife in his gut and Stork choked on a sudden swell of dread. He pretended not to hear. Instead, he addressed the rash sharpshooter's earlier concern. "If we want to survive, instead of blindly fumbling in the dark . . . and possibly missing the others anyway because we can't see and getting eaten by something . . . horrible, . . . even if we didn't manage to walk off the edge of the terra . . . we need to make camp."

"Alright Stork, we'll set camp." Even though the helmsman's skin had regained a bit of its normal green color, Stork still looked pretty pale and shaky. Finn moved to clean up the worst of the blood, but the pilot irately slapped him away.

"It's already dry. Reopening it will only allow infection in," Stork explained by way of apology. His concussion was making him irritable. "And we're really in no condition to fight off the horrors fresh blood would attract."

The wind picked up again, and the deep roll of thunder shook the glade. A faint hissing sound heralded the appearance of thin, electric blue and violet plasma flames on the edges of pointed things – trees and even leaves and grass, caused by the charge in the atmosphere. Stork cringed and looked up at the sky. "The St. Elmo's fire is harmless . . . it's the lightning we have to worry about."

"Oooo, sparkly!" Finn's eye caught on the bluish flame tingeing the tips of Stork's ears. He reached out a hand to touch them, but thought better of it and ran a hand along a leaf instead. The violet light clung briefly to his fingers before dissipating. Maybe Stork did know what he was talking about after all. The sky here often looked strange with unusual weather phenomenon. "Good thing it lights up the area. It's almost completely dark."

"It won't last long. Come on and help spread this out," Stork murmured and thrust an armload of dead grasses, leaves, and other less-identifiable things at Finn, gesturing for him to stuff it beneath the fallen log. Even though it was decently warm outside, the risk of hypothermia was very real, and the bedding would be vital in preventing shock as well as acting as a camouflage should Dark Ace come searching for them. It would act as both mattress and blanket. "Though it's likely to be infested with weeping-hemorrhage-slugs."

"Figures," Finn muttered. Nonetheless, he spread the leaves. Stork's 'gloom and doom' left him less than thrilled, but at least it proved that the paranoid Merb was finally getting back to normal. The marksman sighed. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

><p>"Move it, Storm Hawk."<p>

Piper stumbled, tripping over a slight imperfection in the grey metal flooring, as Ravess gave her a sharp shove from behind to keep her moving. The Storm Hawk crystal mage stole a surreptitious glance over at Radarr. The small creature was clenched immobile in one of Snipe's ham fists – the small copilot nearly smothered in the large man's grip. Piper had already developed a strategy to allow Radarr and her to escape, but the bruiser of a Cyclonian had shown up just in time to help his sister manage the two prisoners and ruin the plan – as well as to share in the credit for their capture.

'This isn't Cyclonia, and it's not Terra Zartacla. And even though it shares some similarity, it isn't Terra Gruesomous either.' Frustrated, Piper turned her eyes back to her surroundings. She just couldn't quite figure out where they were. She remembered being caught along with Junko in the _Condor's_ wake when Dark Ace pulled them through his warp, but this place certainly wasn't Cyclonia. 'And so far, my captors have been tight-lipped with that tidbit of information.' The crystal specialist had seen a large shipyard on the way in, so this place was definitely part of a Cyclonian facility, but where in the atmos were they?

The small group paused ever so slightly in front of one of the thick, dark slate octagonal doors lining the winding metal hallway, allowing it to swish open with a sinister sigh. Smiling broadly, Ravess straightened and ushered her brother and the Storm Hawk captives into the room.

Piper bit her lip, her honey-gold eyes widening. Master Cyclonis stood in the center of the large room, casually leaning against a heavy, deeply polished black marble desk. The dark empress was reading a sheaf of papers, and she looked up briefly to acknowledge her 'visitors' with a smirk. She raised one hand to indicate that they should wait before silently dropping her eyes back to the file.

Ravess and Snipe nodded and tightened their holds on the prisoners. They patiently stood at attention, matching eager grins twisting their faces. Shifting her weight, Piper looked around the room with interest, her eyes immediately drawn to the large storm windows lining the far wall. Maybe if she could reach them – but Piper looked closer, then frowned. Not only were the windows barred, but they were so heavily reinforced as to even cloud the view through them. She couldn't even clearly make out the scene below, only seeing the setting sun bleed through them, staining the sky as well as the variegations in the glass itself a hellish red.

Piper huffed in frustration. A Talon guard stood at attention on either side of the door that they just entered. There was no other way out. From corner to corner, the room's walls were lined with heavy – and dusty – bookshelves. Piper's eyes narrowed in thought. It was unlike the empress to leave her books in such disuse. Wherever they were, Piper suspected that Cyclonis herself hadn't been there long – though the facility itself had obviously already long existed.

On either side of the Storm Hawk, Snipe and Ravess fidgeted. The uneasy silence stretched onward, broken only by the roll of distant thunder. Obviously her capture wasn't as eagerly anticipated at the siblings had hoped. Master Cyclonis shuffled her papers, drawing Piper's attention once more.

The Cyclonian empress' desk was much smaller than the one she remembered seeing on Cyclonia when the Storm Hawks had slipped in to watch, and unwillingly participate in, "The Ultimate Extreme Mighty Mega Warrior Championship," but it was still very much the same. Another sheaf of papers was neatly stacked in one corner, next to a small astronomical globe. A thin line appeared between Piper's brows. The top sheet appeared to be a petition for drought relief aid from Terra Bounteous. Where was Terra Bounteous? Shaking her head, the Storm Hawk crystal mage dismissed the mystery as unimportant to her current predicament and turned her attention back to the desk. An intricately woven metal bowl held an assortment of crystals and several books were scattered, open, on the desk. A low buzz of excitement and hope rose in Piper's chest. If she could get hold of one of the stones, perhaps she and Radarr could escape. She examined the crystals closer.

'A floater, a chroma crystal . . . no . . ..' Those wouldn't be of much use. 'A firebolt!' Definitely yes. 'A hypnocrystal and a striker stone.' Excellent. Piper's gaze lingered on the last stone – a cold, deep blue interlocked loop. 'What crystal is that? I've never seen anything like it before.'

"I see you have been admiring my collection," Master Cyclonis finally looked up, a calculating smile curving her lips. "So very nice of you to drop by . . . my friend."

The empress carefully straightened the papers in her fingers, and tapped them sharply against the edge of her desk to align them. "Enough paperwork for now." She turned to address Ravess. "Good work, . . . the first of the Storm Hawks. Go contact Dark Ace and see what he has found. I am . . . _eager_ . . . to greet our other guests."

Smiling at her master's praise, the musical perfectionist nodded curtly and stepped from the room, leaving her brother to carry out the rest of the dirty work. Snipe looked disgruntled at having the lesser task. Then confusion took its place; he didn't want to be the messenger boy to Dark Ace anyway. Snipe settled for looking smug. Guarding, and bullying, prisoners suited him just fine.

Seizing advantage of the bruiser's distraction, Radarr squirmed, attempting to squiggle free of the Cyclonian's grip.

"Not so fast, rodent." Grunting, Snipe grinned and tightened his grip around the Storm Hawks' pet until his eyes bugged out.

"Cut the act, Master Cyclonis," Piper tore her eyes from Radarr and angrily confronted Cyclonis, risking a minute step forward onto the elaborate Cyclonian mosaic set into the floor beneath the empress' desk. If she could just get close enough to grab one of the crystals, they might still be able to escape – especially now that Ravess was gone. "As if the Storm Hawks would ever be Cyclonian guests."

"But of course they are, my dear Piper." Cyclonis laughed lightly and plucked a file folder from her desk. "I was ever so pleased when your squadron accepted Dark Ace's invitation to try out my new invention." She neatly placed the papers in her hands into the portfolio. "Just think of all the good for Atmos I will be able to do with my warp crystal array. Why, aid could reach disaster areas in a matter of minutes. Just think of all the lives and suffering we could spare."

"All the good for Atmos?" A shadow of doubt darkened her face, and the Storm Hawk crystal mage's eyes flicked involuntarily to Master Cyclonis' second stack of papers. Piper risked another half-step forward. "What good? Disasters that you, yourself cause? Hijacking me and the Storm Hawks?"

"You wrong me, my friend. You're our guests here. Nothing more." The Cyclonian empress raised an eyebrow as the Storm Hawk slipped another half-step forward. She was onto Piper's ploy. "But we shall speak more of this later." Finished with the conversation, Master Cyclonis sharply raised a hand and turned to address her subordinate. "Snipe, please escort the two Storm Hawks to the guest chambers prepared for them."

Piper lunged forward in a last-ditch effort to snag a crystal, but Snipe caught the back of her collar in his free hand and hauled her to the door. Master Cyclonis laughed.

"Dang it." Piper cursed beneath her breath. She had been so close! The Storm Hawk crystal mage squirmed in the Cyclonian's grasp, but failed to escape Snipe's steel grip. Snipe hauled her over the doorjamb. Just as the door snicked closed, she heard Cyclonis tell one of her guards to put Stork's file away. The Storm Hawk strategist momentarily froze, her interest perked at the mention of her teammate. Why was the Cyclonian empress interested in the Storm Hawks' carrier pilot? And why did she have a file on him?

Piper's eye caught on one of the many air vents tucked along the pipes running along the roof of the wall. There would be no way she could fit into one of them, but Radarr would have no problem. Struggling against Snipe's iron grip, Piper twisted around, trying to get in a solid Sky-Fu kick. "Radarr! run for it!"

Eyes wide, Radarr noted the vent that Piper indicated. Chittering, he sank his teeth into Snipe's wrist.

"Get it off! Get it off! Get it off!" Yelling, Snipe dropped Piper and frantically flapped his arm in an attempt to dislodge the skittery pest clamped onto his hand.

With a shriek, Radarr tore loose, flying through the air to smack into the Talon guard who had just stepped from Cyclonis' office, Stork's file clutched in his hands. The lemur-like creature bowled the Cyclonian aide over, knocking him down and sending the sheaf of papers flying.

With a growl, Snipe lunged through the flying papers after Radarr, scaring the Talon aide half to death. The blue-furred critter evaded the grab and leapt onto his hand. Scrabbling up the bruiser's arm, Radarr skittered onto his neck.

Dropping into a crouch with a high-pitched squeal, Snipe frantically batted at his neck. Radarr's rat-like paws gave him the willies. Piper snagged the opportunity to grab a huge, double-handful of Stork's file and stuffed the papers under her shirt. She missed only a couple sheets. Deciding that was good enough, Piper squeezed past the shaken Cyclonian guard and sprinted down the hallway. "Radarr get out of here and find Aerrow!"

"Rrritt? Chitter-chit!" Radarr scrambled onto Snipe's head and vaulted to the wall, grabbing a loose vent cover and sending it clattering to the floor. With a final cheep, the small Storm Hawk disappeared into the ductwork.

"Oh no you don't, girly." With a lunge, Snipe jumped after Piper and grabbed her around the waist. "You aren't getting the best of me this time." Scowling, the Cyclonian commander hefted the dark-skinned girl over his shoulder and, ignoring her kicking feet and the drumming of her fists on his back, started down the hall. "And I'm telling Master Cyclonis that it's your fault that the blue furry rat escaped."

A grim smile touched Piper's lips. Radarr would find Aerrow, she had no doubt. And then they would come rescue her. It sounded like so far only she had been captured. The crystal specialist shoved away the unpleasant thoughts of the dungeon where Cyclonis was going to imprison her. Hanging over Snipe's shoulder, she could see the Talon aide shakily climb to his feet, quickly grab the couple remaining papers from the hall floor and roughly shove them, wrinkled, back into the folder. Piper smiled. He didn't even check to make sure he had them in order, and since he likely hadn't known exactly how many papers there were in the first place, he didn't appear to notice that most of them were missing.

Snipe wound his way through the Cyclonian base, Piper jouncing uncomfortably on his shoulder. Finally, he stopped in front of a large door. "Enjoy your stay," the Talon commander said in mock courtesy and tossed her into the room.

"Huh?" Skidding to a halt halfway across the floor, Piper held still a moment, stunned at her surroundings. She was not in a dungeon. Instead, Master Cyclonis had her locked in an old library. While many of the books had obviously been removed from the room, several still sat on the elaborate shelves lining the walls. A low worktable sat in one corner, while opposite it, looking like nothing more than a gigantic, evil typewriter gone mad, stood one of the empress' crystal amalgamation machines. A large collection of very select crystals sat on the table. There were no windows. "I could love it here . . . unfortunately."

Shaking her head, Piper carefully removed the crumpled papers from her shirt and went to examine the crystals. "Curiouser and curiouser."

* * *

><p>Finally stopping near an outer vent, Radarr peered through the grate slats, his heart hammering in his chest. He had reached the outer wall. Producing a small metal spike that had been riveted to Snipe's shoulder armor from his pocket, the small Storm Hawk carefully pried away the metal grate and dropped to the ground. The copilot ran a short ways, weaving his way through heavy square buildings, their silvery metal walls gleaming in the setting sun. He rounded a corner, squeaking in surprise when a pair of hands abruptly grabbed him, and disappeared into the shadows.<p>

* * *

><p>Groaning, Stork shifted uncomfortably in their nest of leaves beneath the fallen tree. He scratched at a bug bite. It was still night, and the chill wind was still whipping through the forest, a dry lightning storm clawing the roiling clouds above, but at least they were warm. The carrier pilot removed a stick that was poking his side. Stork hadn't slept at all that night. He was very tired, but wouldn't have slept even if he felt safe enough to do so – which he didn't. Without his trance helmet to block his perpetual night terrors, he couldn't risk screaming in his sleep and drawing predators or Talons to their location.<p>

The Merb pilot squirmed onto his back, and brought a shaky hand to his head, watching the thick clouds billow and flash overhead through the breaks in the branches covering them. A dim, flattened red disk of lightning tore through the upper atmosphere and he blinked. At least since they weren't flying on the _Condor;_ the strato-elf was so far above them that it posed no threat. Stork grimaced. His head still hurt, throbbing dully and quite painfully. He was also still nauseous. It was just as well that they didn't find anything to eat as he wouldn't have kept it down.

"Ohhh yeah. Home, bitter home."

A sudden tongue of hot blue lightning split the night, striking a nearby tree with a deafening explosion. The helmsman jerked in alarm, bumping against the still-unconscious Sky Knight pressed to his side, and clenched his teeth. His ears twitched at the sound of bits of bark raining down, the shrapnel from the struck tree tapping softly as they hit ground. Trembling, Stork risked another peek from their shelter, verifying with relief that the lightning-struck tree hadn't caught fire. He hadn't expected it to, but it didn't hurt to check.

"Lost the _Condor_." In the darkness, Aerrow stirred, and tried to sit up. "Gotta check on my family . . . my team."

"Um, you shouldn't move . . . your arm . . ." Feeling the squadron leader shift, Stork recoiled from skin contact and, sitting up, drew his knees up to his chest. He struggled to subdue the rising sense of dread brought on by Aerrow's closeness – it hadn't been bad when his leader was comatose. ". . . unless you wish to risk permanent damage."

"That bad, huh?" Aerrow replied, concerned at the tremor in his helmsman's voice. The Sky Knight had the odd feeling that they were talking about two separate things at once. His own physical injuries as well as his carrier pilot's emotional scars. He shifted uncomfortably again, but – as per Stork's request – made sure not to touch the pilot. He could feel the Merb shaking next to him. At least Stork was now awake. He had worried seeing the helmsman lying unconscious in the _Condor_. "At least now we are out of immediate danger . . . I think." He paused. "What is that noise?"

"Finn snoring." Stork's mouth quirked in a grim smile. Despite the rash sharpshooter's complaints about their make-shift shelter, Finn certainly hadn't had any trouble dropping off to sleep. Stork forced his attention back to Aerrow. "And he said this was a terrible campsite."

A small smile touched Aerrow's lips. He was glad that they had found Finn. Evidently the rest of his squad was still missing.

"Stork, what happened?" Aerrow barely resisted adding, 'You used to be okay around us . . . around _me_.' The snap of a pod plant followed by thrashing, then silence, briefly intruded upon the night, as well as the near-constant roll of thunder, punctuated by the strobe of lightning. Aerrow gestured to indicate his pilot and their surroundings before returning his left hand to his injured shoulder to rub at the ache there. "How did we come to be here?"

"Uhh, I . . . we _all_ . . . were attacked. And we all were damaged . . . injured, I mean. Most of it was . . . _is_ reversible, but some will just take time to heal," Stork jittered, his thoughts turning back to Terra Tropica and Master Cyclonis' lathestone attack. He rubbed gently at his aching temple then rewrapped his arm around his knees. Despite a shudder that cramped his shoulders, the Merb looked steadily into his Sky Knight's emerald eyes. "Such healing can't be rushed. We only cause permanent damage when we force things, but I promise, Aerrow, we'll be okay . . .."

Stork paused in the middle of his sentence, ears twitching. The paranoid Merb lunged forward, dragging them both under cover of the thick tree trunk of their shelter when the ground beneath them suddenly rolled. A large dead branch tore free from a tree above, catching on their roof and raining bits of dirt and bark. When the pitching stopped, he curled in on himself again. Stork drew a shaky breath, glad that he had picked the fallen tree for stability. ". . . if some other catastrophe doesn't get us first."

"What?" Aerrow began, but Stork silenced the query with a curt grunt.

"Just an earthquake. Not a big one, and not too close. Nothing to worry about." Stork forced his clenched muscles to relax. Any aftershocks would not be as strong, they had nothing to worry about – from the earthquake anyway. "Though the quake could be indicative of something else . . . which we _should_ worry about."

Aerrow sighed – Stork was speaking of their current predicament – and yet he wasn't. He wasn't finished with their interrupted, double entendre conversation, but it was obvious that Stork was. The Sky Knight nodded to himself. So be it. Though he itched to ask which attack his carrier pilot meant, Aerrow let it go. Stork asked for more time, and he would give it. He drew in a deep breath. The air was now a little chilly, as the temperature dropped right before dawn, and the sky began to lighten.

"Well, time to get moving," Aerrow claimed with slightly forced enthusiasm. He stiffly squirmed out from beneath the fallen tree that his squad members had used as a shelter. The young Sky Knight noted with some bemusement that his right arm was bound tightly to his chest, and he brushed the leaves and other less-identifiable things from his body with his good arm. "You know, Stork, my shoulder doesn't really feel that bad. I mean, sure it aches some and feels a bit stiff, but . . .."

"Don't use it." Stork warned darkly, pulling himself also from underneath the log. He shivered in the early morning light. The green-skinned Merb slipped on his shirt, noting that it was still a touch damp from the lake water. At least they had stayed warm enough during the night. He shakily rubbed his arms and then poked at Finn. "Oh Fi-inn, time to Get U-up!"

"Just five more minutes," the marksman mumbled and, with a snort, burrowed back beneath the blanket of leaves.

Aerrow laughed good-naturedly when his efforts to rouse Finn elicited another complaint. Frustrated with the marksman, Stork finally grabbed a twig and lightly 'walked' it up the side of Finn's face. "Oh look, a green spotted, hairy swamp tarantula."

"Wha . . .!" Finn abruptly sat up, smacking his head against the tree trunk above him. Favoring Stork with an irritated look when he saw that it was not a spider, Finn stretched, giving a jaw-cracking yawn. Now that he was awake, he found he felt surprisingly fresh, though hungry. Finn smiled, pleased that his leader was up and awake. He raised a hand to clap him on the back, but remembered Aerrow's injured shoulder in time and instead scratched his head. Now just to find the others. He cupped his hands around his mouth and hollered. " Junko! Piper, Radarr!"

"Finn!" Aerrow hissed. He clamped his left hand over his wingman's mouth.

"Just yell a little louder, okay Finn?" Stork snidely remarked, "the _Talons_ on the other side of the terra didn't quite hear you!" Casting a worried glance up at the re-strike lightning flaring across the sky, Stork turned to stare through the trees, trembling. His ears perked forward as he strained to hear. "Though I'm sure that the Talons on _this_ side heard you just fine."

Noticing that Stork's ears were twitching, Aerrow stood stock still and listened. "Talon skimmers. Several squadrons. Probably scouting around looking for us where the _Condor_ sank in that lake."

"Except now, they're heading this way!" Stork shuddered, hugging one arm across his chest. "And with no skyrides and no supplies on top of being injured . . . we're doomed."

"Sorry, dudes."

"Wait! Did you say the _Condor_ sank? Okay that's bad . . . real bad. And a fleet of Talons are swarming around it? That's not bad . . . that's catastrophic!" Stork murmured to himself beneath his breath. "Although if Finn has drawn the Talons here, then maybe we could sneak around back to the _Condor_. Of course, trying to evade scores of Talons in broad daylight is only slightly less suicidal than swimming through a lake teeming with palsying-viper-eels."

"Forget it, Stork. We're not risking it." Aerrow shook his head decisively as he led his reduced team away from their now-compromised campsite. He was really glad that they didn't run afoul of the eels when the carrier ship crashed into the lake. The impact must have temporarily scared them off. "We need to find the others _first_, then find the _Condor_."

"Actually, we need to avoid capture first," Finn pointed out.

"Then find the _Condor_," Stork added.

"No! then we find the others!" Aerrow forcefully reiterated. Stork was obviously not completely rational from his head injury.

"How about finding something to eat in there somewhere?" Finn interrupted the Sky Knight's and the carrier pilot's glaring contest. Stork looked away first.

Wordlessly, Stork pushed to the head of his teammates and easily led them through the denser parts of the undergrowth where skimmers would have trouble following. The Sky Knight paused briefly before shrugging and following his paranoid carrier pilot. Stork typically was overly aware of everything that could possibly kill him on any given terra, but this time Aerrow could see the spark of familiarity – and honest dread – in the carrier pilot's eye. "Stork, you know where we are. Tell us."

Cowering as Aerrow moved toward him, Stork nervously jittered back a step. Then he continued weaving through the underbrush. He had avoided Finn's question earlier when the marksman had asked him, but as loath as he was to mention the fact, he knew that if his teammates were to run any chance of surviving this place, everyone had to have as much information as possible. Shoulders tremoring, Stork focused his gaze on the surrounding forest, hiding behind his hair. He dragged in a wheezing breath. "Terra Merbia."

"Whoa, your home terra? So this is all familiar to you, right?" Finn exclaimed in surprise. He ducked under a hanging, slime coated vine. A strobe lightning flash lit the area followed almost immediately by the crash of thunder. "Charming spot. I suppose this is the local play park."

"Not now, Finn." Favoring his wingman with a blunt look, Aerrow gestured for Stork to continue. The news was surprising – and unsettling.

"Oh, it's familiar all right. Mostly, Terra Merbia is a warm, heavily forested swampy terra with a few large lakes, teeming with dragon-wasps, leaf-choler-borogoves, Phanerian-moths, and a whole plethora of carnivorous plants and trees to name a few, and host to just about every natural disaster that you've ever heard of . . . plus a few you haven't. And that's in addition to the not-so-natural disasters that also plague it." Stork picked up speed in the telling. Once started, the Merb was unable to stop. If he did stop, he knew that he'd never be able to start again. Obvious horror oozed into his voice and his speech jumbled out in a tangle of words and emotion. "Over-a-decade-ago-Cyclonia-invaded-Terra Merbia-and-made-it-into-a-slave-state-the-conjoined-terra-to-the-east-is-where-we've-hidden-our-colony-of-free-Merbs."

"Let me guess. You grew up in occupied Merbia." Aerrow didn't need to see Stork's jerky nod to know that he got it right. The Sky Knight felt he now understood the difference between Stork and the other Merbs that they had encountered. If the young Sky Scouts and their dispatch had been from the free colony, they _wouldn't_ have the phobias that his helmsman did. Aerrows' eyes narrowed in thought. He couldn't imagine what it was like growing up in a labor camp. Between that and being marooned in the wastelands for who-knew-how-long, it was no wonder that their carrier pilot was a walking bundle of nerves – and yet, some part of the puzzle that was Stork was still missing.

Stork hunched his shoulders against the pitying look that Aerrow shot him – much like the one that he had wanted to avoid back on the _Condor_. Aerrow's bright emerald eyes studied the cringing Merb pilot, then he mercifully tore his gaze away. "Let's get going."

* * *

><p>AN:

"Curiouser and curiouser." Quote from _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland_ by Lewis Carroll

Regarding strato-elves: Lightning elves are a real world weather phenomenon. They are a form of upper atmospheric lightning generated by the excitation of nitrogen molecules due to electron collisions. They typically have a flattened disc shape and a dim red color.

Borogoves courtesy _Jabberwocky_ by Lewis Carroll


	4. Chapter 4

Storm Hawks:

"**Truth or Suicide"**

(This story takes place after episode (36 – 210) "Scouts Honor"

and after my fanfic "Something Like That")

Rated T.

Disclaimer: Storm Hawks is a Nerd Corps Entertainment, Inc. Original Production.

**When nightmares come true and the present meets the past, the only way out . . . is through. It's Truth or Suicide.**

**Stork centric, but all involved. While it is not required to read my last fic "Something Like That" – this story does reference events from that title.**

* * *

><p>"Oh yeah! Yum!" Finn scooped up a small rock and chucked it at a bright red apple, knocking it down from its branch. Catching the fruit, he polished it on a relatively clean spot on his uniform. "Breakfast is served!"<p>

"That is an amaurotic-chokeapple. I wouldn't eat it if I were you," Stork intoned darkly. Wearily coming to a stop, he stepped back to the rash sharpshooter and knocked the apple from his hand. "Unless you enjoy asphyxiating spasms and total loss of sight."

"Uh, no not really." Eyes wide, Finn stammered his thanks. The marksman's stomach rumbled. "But I'm hungry!" he whined.

"Guys, focus!" Struggling to catch his breath, Aerrow indicated for them to keep moving. He needed to keep his mind off his aching shoulder – it was more distracting than actively painful. "We need a plan." The Sky Knight scanned the terrain, unhappy that they still couldn't find any trace of the rest of his squad – no battle-damaged vegetation, wrecked skimmers, or anything. "I wish we knew for certain that they were even here. They might not have warped through with us."

"I have an emission tracker in one of my emergency preparedness boxes back on the _Condor_ . . . which is at the bottom of the lake," Stork pointed out – again. Holding his head, Stork blinked to clear the fuzziness from his vision. He grunted in annoyance when Finn moved to pick a handful of small, purple berries. "Those, Finn, are blackout-berries . . . otherwise known as doom-in-a-cluster."

"Okay," Aerrow started organizing his thoughts, ignoring Stork's latest bid to go looking for the _Condor_. "We have no equipment and no provisions." Aerrow favored his wingman with a sympathetic look. They were all very hungry. "First, we need to find the others."

"And get something to eat," Finn interjected.

"Right. We also need to avoid being caught, and . . .. "

"Retrieve the _Condor_," Stork added.

"Yes. And shut down the Cyclonian operations," Aerrow continued.

"And not die," Stork added grimly, causing his companions to roll their eyes.

"_And_ return the stolen landmarks," Aerrow finished, shaking his head. The young Sky Knight stepped passed a scorched cypress and tripped over a bent skimmer fender, a crumpled Storm Hawks insignia barely visible. "Look guys! It's one of ours!"

"Aw man! _Mine_, you mean." Eyes wide with disappointment, Finn stepped around Aerrow. They now stood in the small clearing where he had crashed his skimmer yesterday. "We're right back where I started." He shook his head, dismayed that they had traveled in a circle. The marksman stole a quick glance at his companions. Both seemed inordinately tired and out of breath. 'Whoa, those two must be hurting a lot more than they're letting on.'

"Which is an appropriate search pattern when hunting for others lost in the same area," Stork muttered darkly and gingerly stepped over to the blackened wreck. He carefully pulled the thick, rectangular ammunition compartment from the remains of Finn's skimmer with trembling hands. "The fuel crystals didn't survive the wreck . . . naturally." Plucking a spent crossbow bolt from the ground, the green-skinned pilot pried open the blocky case, pulling out the ammunition magazine – empty as apparently Finn spent his ammo in the battle before being blasted from the sky. He now had a rather sturdy carryall. Ignoring his companions' skeptical looks, Stork tucked the bolt into the pack then, setting it on the ground, pried off the skimmer's engine panel.

"Uh, Stork? What are you doing?" Finn moved up to stand next to the pilot. He watched as the Merb ripped out the sparkplug wires, then disconnected the serpentine belt to fashion a shoulder strap for his new emergency preparedness box. "Ya know, if you're trying to fix the skimmer, you should be putting it back together, not pulling it apart."

"With what tools, Finn?" Stork replied caustically, not even bothering to glance up at the marksman. He yanked out the fuel intake valves, stuffing them also into the pack. "And even with tools, the ruptured crystals compromised its structural integrity. This ride will never hit the sky again."

"Whatever, dude." Finn left the Merb to his scrounging and wandered the small clearing looking for potential breakfast. He arrived back just as Stork wiped the grease from his hands and snapped shut his case. He held up a stone fruit that sported a luscious, rosy glow for Stork's appraisal. "What about this?"

"Toxic."

"Rrrrh. Fine." Finn threw the peach-like fruit a little harder than strictly necessary. It splatted against his burnt-out skyride, sending a scorched sidepiece clattering to the ground.

In an effort to forestall an argument between the sharpshooter and carrier pilot, Aerrow finally assigned Stork to go find _something_ edible. The green-skinned Merb favored his leader with the evil-eye, but then heaving a sigh and muttering that they were all doomed anyway, set off to find breakfast – or more likely lunch by this time. Stork returned a short while later, several large, knobby masses clutched in his tremoring arms. The lumps looked hardly appetizing, but at least they quieted their growling stomachs and – despite all odds – were somewhat passable in taste.

After finishing off another warty, grey fleshed – well, if it wasn't a fruit, then he didn't want to know what it was – Aerrow wiped his hand down his trousers. He turned to thank Stork for the meal, but the pilot was already stuffing the remaining fruits he had gathered into his survival pack.

"If we are going to delay our inevitable demise, then we need to get moving," Stork muttered and again led them into the forest.

* * *

><p>Shrieking in alarm, Finn stumbled back, narrowly avoiding the snap of huge, razor-filled jaws. He tripped over a large bone half-buried in the mud and tumbled gracelessly. The giant, brick-red reptilian head gave a mighty shake, vibrating the stubby, spiny crest bristling around the nape of its neck. With a sharp hiss, the gargantuan lizard reared up on its hind legs and swiped its knife-like, serrated claws at the marksman, intent on disemboweling its prey.<p>

"Hey, ugly!" Aerrow shouted, momentarily distracting the creature and allowing Finn enough time to scramble behind a fallen log. The Sky Knight cast a quick glance at his helmsman. "What in the atmos _is_ that thing?"

The rough-skinned lizard twisted its greenish-blue body, completely flipping around, and lashed out its powerful tail in an effort to crush the squad leader.

"A giant-sauria-agama! . . . and watch out for the poison stinger." Stork yelled back, but took a moment to admire the deadly predator just the same.

"Good to know!" Aerrow launched himself into a backflip, narrowly avoiding the white, barbed stinger on the tip of its tail. The blue and orange striped appendage smashed into a nearby black willow tree, shattering it. With an unearthly howl, the giant lizard leapt back into the thick trees, rebounding off the large boles and launching itself back at the Sky Knight.

"Whoa!" Yelling, Aerrow rolled out of the way, struggling to his feet when he became mired in the sticky, green-black mud. The huge creature snapped at Finn again, pulling another shriek from the sharpshooter. "How do we stop this thing?"

"The agama isn't really known for its tendency to give up prey." Stork skittered back, shouting at his teammates. "And because it's an apex predator, it really has no weak spots."

"A what? I thought you said it was a giant-sauron-agate-whatever-thingy!"

"Finn! Close your eyes!" Ignoring the sharpshooter's question, the carrier pilot grabbed a thick, moss covered stick and whacked the beast, trying to distract it from the spiky-haired blonde. When that didn't work, he tried poking it in the eye.

"Argh! The last thing I want is to close my eyes with that thing coming at me!" Though maybe Stork had a point in him not seeing his own incoming death. Finn shot Stork a withering look, but nevertheless squeezed his eyes shut just as the agama drew back its brick-red head and spat into his face.

"Oh, _yuck_!" Finn stumbled back, wiping the thick, viscous venom from his face. The toxin stank – and rendered his skin slightly numb. He blinked his eyes back open, panicking when his vision came back dimmed and blurry. "I can barely see!"

"Don't worry about it . . . since you didn't get it directly in your eyes, your vision will recover. Uhh, probably." Stork tossed aside his useless stick. "Unlike the rest of you if the agama nails you with its poison tail. The toxin is a relaxant, and will put you to sleep."

"Huh. That's not so bad." Finn snagged a rock from the ground and chucked it at the acrobatic lizard. It bounced harmlessly off the rough blue scales.

"Too much poison relaxes you so much that your heart stops beating."

"Guys, focus!" Aerrow dodged a lightning-fast claw swipe. He dropped to the ground, groaning as the ache in his shoulder intensified. The agama's razor claws shredded the bark from the tupelo black gum tree behind him. "If this thing is at the very top of the food chain and has no natural enemies, how do we beat it?"

"Um, this would be our immanent and appalling demise. Just a moment." Scuttling away from the beast, the helmsman plopped his make-shift survival kit on the trampled, boggy ground and frantically pawed through it.

"We don't have a moment. Stork, watch out!"

"Huh?" Stork looked up just as the multicolored striped tail flicked at him, bashing into his ribs and flinging the carrier pilot into a nearby tree. The breath blasted from his lungs, the impact exploding his headache again. Staggering, Stork fought off a sudden swell of nausea. The Merb pilot squawked in alarm when the agama leapt toward him.

"Take this, you Raptor reject!" Finn shouted, nailing the giant lizard with a barrage of rocks. The sauria-agama landed on the tree above the cowering helmsman, tearing the trunk and uprooting the entire thing. "We gotta get outta here!"

"Outrunning this particular gruesome death is pretty much impossible, I tell you." Crawling on all fours, Stork scrambled out of the way and shakily pulled himself back over to his abandoned emergency kit. "Ah hah!" The carrier pilot triumphantly pulled a handful of small, round berries from the pack just as the vicious creature leapt squarely onto him, driving him down to the mud and pinning him to the ground beneath its claws.

"Stork!" Aerrow yelled and shot a bolt from his lightning blade. Finn continued pelting the thing with his barrage of rocks.

"Try munching on these!" Cringing as the giant-sauria-agama opened its razor-filled maw, Stork squeaked in alarm and thrust in the handful of blackout-berries clutched in his hand.

Shaking its bristled head again, the deadly apex predator reared up, clawing at the air. Its jaws snapped, forcing Aerrow back, then it gave a great shudder and keeled over.

"Dude, you weren't kidding when you called those things _doom-in-a-cluster_." Finn let the stones in his hands fall to the ground and extended a hand to help the trembling Merb to his feet. The marksman hadn't realized that their helmsman had stuffed some of the berries from his skimmer crash site into the survival kit as well.

"Wheeew! You reek." Aerrow came up between Finn and Stork, coughing when he caught a whiff of his wingman. His face screwed up in distaste. He sucked in a deep breath and held it.

"At least the stench should keep the lesser predators away. Oh, just a moment." Stork snatched a hand-blade from his leader's back. "You two go on ahead. I'll be right there."

"Uh, what do you think he's doing back there?" Finn followed Aerrow from the demolished grove, casting an uneasy glance over his shoulder.

"If we're lucky, Stork's collecting venom so that he can make anti-venom if necessary."

"And if we're not lucky?"

The Sky Knight's serious emerald eyes rested on his wingman. "Just don't ask what dinner is tonight."

* * *

><p>"Oh man, this really stinks." Finn put out a hand to catch a raindrop. It wasn't raining hard enough to actually do anything useful, like wash the gunk off them, just enough to keep them uncomfortable – and unpleasantly damp.<p>

"You have no idea," Stork muttered darkly, and moved upwind from the rash sharpshooter. "Why don't you just keep rear guard?" The helmsman's eye caught on the scarlet, flailing, whip-like twigs of a nearby bush and he neatly sidestepped it. "Just steer clear of the red ones."

"Sheesh. What do you think, I'm four?" Finn rolled his eyes. The spiky-haired sharpshooter took a teeny half-step closer. Sure, the thing looked creepy, but . . ..

"I'm serious, Finn. _You_ _never_ touch one of these." Stork stepped over the the wingman and yanked him away from the flagellating bush, a lot harder than necessary. Then, deciding to indulge the marksman's morbid curiosity, Stork dragged Finn's face down for a closer look. The flagellating whip-like twigs of the gorgon-redwhip-coral bush flailed a mere inch away from his nose. "_These_ are hard as rock. The slightest scratch causes almost instantaneous infection when it strikes. Within seconds, a blackening of the flesh around the wound appears. And that creeps web-like as it spreads, causing excruciating pain. So. Don't. Touch!"

"Owee! . . . uh, thanks. I guess." Finn straightened and pulled back as soon as Stork released him, and ruefully rubbed his arm where the carrier pilot had grabbed him. The marksman stuck out his tongue. He was sure that Stork had left bruises. "But that's going to be a bit hard." Finn pointed to the sea of coral bushes in front of them, dotting the ridge along their path.

The three Storm Hawks picked their way along the rim but had to stop when the redwhips grew so closely together that even Stork had a hard time navigating through them. The ridge dropped off into a thick, quaking swamp on one side, and a still, cleanish lake on the other.

"My poor beloved." Stork sighed, longing filling his eyes, the lake below reminding him of his lost _Condor_. "Alone amidst the silt and palsying-viper-eels at the bottom of a lake."

"Well, at least its clean." Finn shook his head and started picking his way down to the calm lake down the short incline. "I'm taking a bath."

"We _do_ need water." Aerrow commented. The juice from the fruit that Stork found just wasn't enough. And while it was still sprinkling, the rain wasn't enough to collect. Following Finn's example, the Sky Knight also started for the lake. Even if it wasn't the cleanest, he was sure that Stork would find a way to boil or filter the water so that they could drink it. "We haven't had fresh water since crashing here."

"Ohhh, while I would _love_ Finn to bathe because he stinks, it's not a good idea." Jittering, Stork grabbed his each of teammates' arms in either hand, staring down at the placid lake. His left eye twitched. "This doesn't look . . . safe."

"What? Why?"

"It's awfully quiet."

"Dude. Your paranoia is bad enough when there actually is danger, but if you're going to be paranoid when there isn't . . .." Shaking his head, Finn huffed and pulled his arm free from the pilot's grasp. "I'm going to wash off."

"Oh, sure, the lake _looks_ peaceful," Stork growled, his pale yellow eyes narrowing dangerously as if affronted that it would dare look so inviting. The paranoid Merb surveyed the area. In fact there was nothing at all moving around the low-lying lake. A faint mist hung over the mostly clear water. Only the few raindrops that fell pocked its surface. "There's nothing alive down there at all, except for the plants . . .." The carrier pilot grunted as he scrutinized the area. He pointed a finger, tracing around the lake in the air. "There, see? The vegetation looks fine except in a ring around the lake, where it was flattened by a tsunami."

"Uh, dude. Lakes don't have tidal waves."

"Unless there's been a limnic eruption." Stork's voice lowered morbidly. "The air down there is saturated with carbon dioxide. And while it is a respiratory stimulant, the gas is also an asphyxiant, which means it kills you faster than a simple lack of air. So unless you wish to suffocate a lung-searing, carbon-poison inducing, agonizingly heinous death while pressure ulcers burst across your skin . . . I'd avoid it."

"Uh." Finn favored the green-skinned Merb with a skeptical look. "Riiight. Now you're just making that up."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that." Aerrow trusted Stork's judgment. The Storm Hawk leader's gaze went from his carrier pilot to the deceptively peaceful lake, before settling on the bright red, ulcerated carcass of a small creature nearly hidden in the brush. He snagged Finn's arm, dragging the protesting marksman behind him. "Okay, into the quaking swamp we go."

* * *

><p>AN -

Riiight. I'm not making that up. Really.


	5. Chapter 5

Storm Hawks:

"**Truth or Suicide"**

(This story takes place after episode (36 – 210) "Scouts Honor"

and after my fanfic "Something Like That")

Rated T.

Disclaimer: Storm Hawks is a Nerd Corps Entertainment, Inc. Original Production.

**When nightmares come true and the present meets the past, the only way out . . . is through. It's Truth or Suicide.**

**Stork centric, but all involved. While it is not required to read my last fic "Something Like That" – this story does reference events from that title.**

* * *

><p>"I know you're in the middle of a good sulk, Finn, but <em>stop<em> _stomping_! You're shaking the trees." Annoyed with the brash sharpshooter, Stork repeated the warning. None of them were exactly enjoying themselves. While Stork was rather fond of a good swamp bath, that wasn't the same as slogging through cold, snake infested, disease-ridden marshes. "This area is a doom-riddled maze of forbidding waterways, heinous marshes and devious swamps, and consequently, is exceedingly boggy! Stomp too hard and you'll bring the trees down on top of us."

"Okay, okay," Finn complained, but nonetheless followed Stork's admonition and walked softly. "Sheesh. Wouldn't want to disturb the trees."

The blonde-haired sharpshooter irritably swatted away a hanging tendril of a nearby dredger-tree. With a startled holler Finn found himself suddenly snagged upside down, struggling wildly. His reflexes honed by the Merbian swamplands, Aerrow immediately drew, clicked on, and swiped with his blade in one smooth motion. The Storm Hawk leader sliced through the dragnet of vining branches, and Stork pulled the unfortunate marksman away from several other reaching trees.

"Must you really tease the trees, Finn?" Aerrow grinned, relief flooding the Sky Knight as the adrenalin rush subsided.

"Oh, come on! I mean really! Does _everything_ on this terra have to be out to eat me?" Finn huffed irritably. He tugged off the still-squirming vines and threw them away. Then he crossed his arms and stood still, not exactly daring to even move. He was beginning to see why Stork was so paranoid all the time. A line of worry creased the sharpshooter's brow when Aerrow stumbled slightly and started rubbing his shoulder.

"Um, actually, the dredger-tree doesn't _eat_ anything that it ensnares in its dragnets." With an evil grin, the helmsman eagerly explained the tree's hunting behavior. His voice dropped ominously. "It just slowly, agonizingly, crushes its prey to death. Not only does this feed the symbiotic vulture-mites that live in the boughs, but the decaying . . . ah . . . leftovers . . . decompose into fertilizer for the dredger."

"Oh, it only _kills_ me. That makes me feel sooo much better." Finn shuddered. The realization that the dredger-trees made their own compost heaps effectively freaked out the Storm Hawks' wingman.

"What's that sound?" Aerrow swatted a biting insect on his neck and carefully stepped onto the next fallen log that the three Storm Hawks were walking on to avoid the sinkholes, quicksand and bogs as they traversed the swamp. He turned toward his helmsman. The plaintive, melodious croaking noise was not unlike the chinking of a small bell. The sound seemed to come from no particular direction – or rather from all directions at once – making the singer very difficult to locate.

"A firebelly-toad." Stork pointed to a dull, brownish lump squatting in the mud by their feet. "The abundant secretion of milky mucus from one can kill a cat. You don't want to know what an entire swamp of them can do."

"Eww." Finn eyed the toad with revulsion. "Okay, that's just too weird. A poison spewing frog? There's no way you could have made up that one."

"Toad, not frog. And they secrete, not regurgitate."

"Toad . . . frog . . . whatever, it's still revolting." Even though he thought it really was disgusting, Finn was more interested in keeping his companions' minds off of their own aches and pains. Aerrow's shoulder was obviously bothering him more, and Stork's green skin was starting to take on a greyish cast again.

"Uh, right." Aerrow warily eyed his helmsman. He had to agree with Finn. Poison was poison whether it came from a toad, frog, or red coral plant. The massive amount of information Stork managed to stuff in his head was astounding.

Finn made to step onto another log, but fell back with a yelp when it reared up, training its eye stalks and shaking the fleshy protuberance under its maw at the intruder. Arms flailing wildly, Finn tipped, landing hard in the mud. The impact shook the surrounding trees hard enough to cause the firebelly-toad to defensively flip over onto its back, exposing its vivid vermillion specked belly. Aerrow grabbed one of the sharpshooter's arms while Stork snagged the other and together they pulled their unfortunate friend away from both poison secreting toad and giant-turkey-slug. The Sky Knight carefully slipped between the last tangle of dredger-tree vines with a relieved sigh and stepped out into a clearer part of the swamp. "Whew, am I glad _that's_ behind us."

"And what is _that_ noise? A mouthless-maggle-throp?" A low, steady thrum intruded upon the swamp. Though Finn kept his sarcastic tone, he took Stork's survival pack and slung it over one shoulder. The Merb looked absolutely knackered. Finn grunted when the case turned out to be a lot heavier than it looked. "Or maybe it's a swarm of dragon-wasps?"

"Uh, no, that's Snipe." Stork paused for a beat, then his eyes bulged in realization of what he just said. The helmsman yelled in alarm as the Cyclonian commander and a squad of Talon fighters flew into view. "It's Snipe!"

"Got it in one, Storm Hawk!" The bruiser of a Cyclonian pushed his heli-blade into a dive, swinging his crystal powered mace while his troops strafed the stranded Storm Hawks. The combined attack forced the broken squadron to scatter to avoid his mace and the Talons' stunner blasts.

"Master Cyclonis will forgive me for losing your rat when I bring in you last three by myself!" Laughing maniacally, Snipe looped around for another pass at the bedraggled Storm Hawks. Not only was it bad enough that he had to endure the empress' displeasure after informing her of the tiny rat's escape, but passing Ravess – the Wallop in her clutches – on his way out had really stunk. "I should have got the Wallop, or at least the crystal mage – not my uptight prat of a sister!"

Choking on the sudden dread writhing in his throat, Stork ducked to avoid the massive Cyclonian's twirling mace. The others . . .. He clutched as his head in an attempt to quell the sickening fear suffocating him. They wouldn't have to search the swamps of Merbia any longer for their missing companions. He dragged in a ragged breath. His teammates were prisoners – in _that_ place. To his horror, Stork knew exactly where they would be.

"Stork, duck!" Finn chuckled at his own words, then shoved Stork hard, driving him down into the mud when he saw Snipe take another swing at the helmsman. A cascade of firebelly-toads flipped over, popping across the murky water. A stunner blast concussed nearby, barely grazing the sharpshooter's cheek. Disoriented, Finn smashed face-first into the swamp next to the carrier pilot.

"Nice of you to drop by, but now isn't the best time," Stork muttered morbidly and dragged the Storm Hawks' wingman from the mud. He turned to run, but skidded to a halt with a squeak. "We really should be going."

"Not so fast, Storm Hawks!" Dismounting his helicycle, Snipe bounced his crystal mace in one hand, a wide, eager grin splitting his face. He finally had the helmsman dead to rights! "I bet you wish you stayed on the ship this time!"

Squawking in alarm, Stork stumbled back. He had to agree. Even underwater, the _Condor_ was sounding real good right about now. Twisting around, the carrier pilot tucked Finn under one arm and dashed past Aerrow, snagging the Sky Knight with his other hand. "Run for your lives!"

"Ya know? To me, this doesn't look like an improvement." Finn squirmed out of Stork's grasp and shook the disorientation from his head. He warily eyed the thick copse of dredger-trees surrounding them. "I'd almost rather face Snipe than get hugged to death by a tree."

"It won't be us being the tree huggers. Snipe. Snipe." Stork backed farther into the killer trees, careful to stay clear of their vining dragnets. "Here, Snipe, snipe, snipe . . .."

"Uh, Stork . . .?" Aerrow briefly eyed his helmsman. Stork's call sounded remarkably like the firebelly-toads. "What are you . . .?" His eyes widened in sudden understanding and he joined in his pilot's 'snipe hunt'. "Here, Snipe!"

"Grah! Where _are_ those lousy Storm Hawks?" The massive Cyclonian couldn't tell where the Storm Hawks' calls were coming from. Snipe remounted his heli-blade and approached in motorcycle mode. "Show yourselves, ya little brats!" Abandoning subtlety, Snipe raised his mace and charged in.

"Oogabooga!" Pulling his very-best Merbian crazy face, Finn popped up in front of the charging Cyclonian, startling Snipe and sending him swerving aside with a yell.

"Quit it! You're freaking me out!" Snipe moved to smush the annoying Storm Hawk, but stopped with a yell when the tree behind him twined its whiplike branches around his arm as well as his heli-blade. "What're you Talons doing back there? Don't just hover! Get me outta here!" His Talon cronies hesitantly rode into the copse to free their commander.

"Not too bad, Finn." Stork favored the sharpshooter with an evil smirk. "You've been practicing."

"Chicka-cha!" Finn shot the pilot his trademark finger-pistols, grinning. He re-shouldered Stork's emergency pack and headed out into the Merbian swamp, his teammates straggling behind him. "Well, that was fun." Finn brushed futilely at his uniform. It was definitely worse for the wear by now. "But now I could really do with a shower. Do you think it will rain hard enough to get this gunk off?"

* * *

><p>Junko clamped his hands over his ears, staggering to one knee. He squeezed his eyes closed. His roar of anguish died and the Wallop and drew in a ragged breath.<p>

"Enough already," Dark Ace snarled at the musical perfectionist, raising a hand threateningly toward Ravess. He was sorely tempted to snap the musical menace's bow. Ever since the Storm Hawks' marksman had wrecked his skimmer and Aerrow had escaped his grasp, the Dark Ace had been in a vile mood. And Ravess' musical abomination wasn't helping any. The crimson-eyed warrior bared his teeth. He would have forgiven the musical assault had she brought in the young Sky Knight as well. "You're giving us all a headache!"

"Hmph." Ravess' plum lips pulled back into a sneer, and she built her music into a crescendo. The Cyclonian perfectionist grinned when the knucklebusters on the Storm Hawk's hands sparked once, then sizzled, thin whorls of smoke snaking from the weapons. The disrupter crystal upgrade to her weapon-violin was singing beautifully. She cast a triumphant glance toward Dark Ace, but seeing his scowl, let the bow fall from its strings. "Critics."

"Excellent, Ravess. I'm impressed. You are indeed a maestro of the more . . . catastrophic arts." A magenta barrier flickered briefly in front of the dark empress as Master Cyclonis let her crystal shield fall. Her melodist commander might be annoying, but she was nevertheless extremely creative, and at least somewhat reliable. Second only to Dark Ace, Ravess was her most valuable asset. The Cyclonian empress moved to stand in front of the kneeling Wallop. Too bad she had captured the flight engineer, and not the Storm Hawks' carrier pilot. If not for the helmsman's interference, her lathestone-induced nightmare would have turned all the Storm Hawks as loyal to her as Dark Ace. She had a score to settle. Frowning, she pushed the disappointment aside. "My, my, how the mighty have fallen."

"Never!" Shaking the disorientation from his mind, Junko surged to his feet, smashing his fists together. The knucklebusters on his hands flickered a bright green before fading out with a sizzling pop. Dismayed, the thickly-built Wallop's ears sagged, but he still jumped forward. "Take that, Cyclonis!" He cocked back his arm and drove a fist directly at the girl's face. Without his knucklebusters, he might not be the strongest Wallop, but he could still pulverize the crystal mage.

Alarmed, Dark Ace protectively leapt forward, but stopped with a smirk when his master shook her head ever so slightly and raised one hand.

"Tsk, tsk." A magenta glow encased the dark empress, a cruel smirk twisting her lips. "Shame on you. Striking out at a defenseless girl. And one who is so kindly extending you her hospitality."

"Ouch!" Junko's fist collided with the crystalline shield, sending jolting shocks to reverberate through his body. He shook the unpleasant buzz from his hand and quickly yanked his aching arm back to his chest, bringing his knuckles to his lips. "Hardly defenseless . . . and _never_ kind."

"My, my, a compliment shrouded in an insult," Cyclonis murmured, an amused undercurrent riding beneath her voice. "The Wallop doth protest too much, methinks. You shall soon enough come to call me kind."

The dark empress gestured to Dark Ace and Ravess to see their latest guest to his quarters. Laughing, Master Cyclonis turned to stare out the thick window. A sudden crash from the hall made the young tyrant cringe. She shook her head, deciding to pretend that she didn't hear anything. Being a successful leader meant knowing when to choose her battles. Junko wouldn't go far, not while she held the Storm Hawks' crystal mage. Though the Wallop was proving problematic now – it was only Ravess' musical mayhem that kept him in line at all – she didn't doubt that he'd come around. The trick to gaining the Wallop was to first gain his friends.

The others were coming, as surely as the next perfect storm here on Terra Merbia. Soon, all the Storm Hawks would once more be under her power, and she would make good on her dream promise to their helmsman.

* * *

><p>AN:

Variation on the quote: "The lady doth protest too much, methinks." from _Hamlet_, Act III by Shakespeare

dharak: Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about Stork's file. It's coming, just . . . not yet. Every seed knows its time. :)


	6. Chapter 6

Storm Hawks:

"**Truth or Suicide"**

(This story takes place after episode (36 – 210) "Scouts Honor"

and after my fanfic "Something Like That")

Rated T.

Disclaimer: Storm Hawks is a Nerd Corps Entertainment, Inc. Original Production.

**When nightmares come true and the present meets the past, the only way out . . . is through. It's Truth or Suicide.**

**Stork centric, but all involved. While it is not required to read my last fic "Something Like That" – this story does reference events from that title.**

* * *

><p>Groaning, Stork stepped over a rotting log and pushed through a curtain of hanging moss, automatically avoiding the lancer-ticks that typically lived there. It was raining. Not one of those frolic-in-the-rain rains, but one of those cut-through-to-your-bones-give-you-hyperthermia-so-you-can-slowly-die-from-pneumonia-cold-rains.<p>

Since discovering from Snipe that the rest of the Storm Hawks had been captured, the carrier pilot had been leading the others directly to the distant peak – where he _knew_ the Cyclonians had set up base. They couldn't stay in one place for long and still avoid Talon patrols – which seemed to be getting closer and more frequent – but trudging through Merbia's swamps was slow going, even more so with their injuries. Stork grunted. The Talons were hounding them every step of the way. His memories, already touching the surface of his mind thanks to Cyclonis' lathe-induced nightmare, seemed to be getting sharper and closer, the nearer they got to their destination. "They've narrowed down the search for us. They're homing in."

"Huh? What did you say?" Finn slashed through another tangle of branches with Aerrow's lightning blade, and twisted around to look at the helmsman.

"Nothing. Did you _really_ have to wish for rain, Finn?" Stork shot the caustic remark at the marksman. He shakily wiped the water from his eyes. "Aaand this is only the beginning. A _real_ storm is coming." His eye caught on a shattered carnival booth speared on a nearby tree and he stopped. "Well, that's certainly new since last I came this way. It does sort of fit the general ambiance of the place though. Nothing says 'home' quite like doom and destruction."

"Huh, I generally like it when the carnival comes to town," Aerrow commented, stepping up to stand next to his helmsman. He was exhausted and didn't feel so great. The Sky Knight pointed farther into the trees. A plethora of colorful – though broken – amusement park games, food booths, and joyrides littered the area for as far as they could see into the forest. "It looks like we found Terra Neon's midway."

"Dudes!" Excited, Finn flicked off Aerrow's lightning blade and, tossing it back to his leader who barely caught it left-handed, jumped forward. "Maybe we can actually find something _good_ to eat." He shot Stork an apologetic smile. "Okay, so you're not exactly letting us starve or anything, and even though the food you find is okay as far as taste goes, you have to admit it seldom looks . . . appetizing." The spiky-haired sharpshooter dashed to a small, mostly intact concessions booth. The counter was torn apart and junk food was strewn across the ground. Finn plucked a handful of soggy flame corn from the mud, dropping it with a shriek when multi-legged bugs crawled out of it. "Ew."

"The wreckage of Terra Neon . . .. Did the Cyclonians drop it here on purpose, or was it ripped apart by accident coming through the warp rift?" Aerrow wondered. He absently tucked his hand-blade away. He hadn't been too pleased with Stork first using the weapon as a butcher knife, and then Finn using it as a machete, but he couldn't deny its effectiveness. His mouth pulled into a frown. "There are no signs of people here. I hope they're okay."

"In the Cyclonians' grasp, they cannot be okay." His left eye twitching, Stork sighed. Cyclonian captivity was much worse than being stuck in the bogs of Terra Merbia. Stork nervously scanned the broken midway as if expecting the whole thing to suddenly animate and come after him. The entire carnival was demolished – partly from simply being dropped, partly from the weather and natural disasters, and partly from the scavengers – both beast and Talon. The Merb's pale yellow eyes flicked toward the pouring skies, then scanned the horizon. No sign of immediate, life endangering catastrophes – that was a good thing. And at least the lightning had passed. Now all they had to worry about was flash floods and stampeding gargantuan-bog-millipedes. Swallowing his anxiety, Stork stepped past Finn to examine a fair ride control panel. Not only had the power crystal been stripped out, but everything even remotely useful had also been removed. He heaved a sigh. "So much for scavenging anything for the survival kit."

"Ohhh, not this too!" Finn whined and poked at a glob of cloud candy – melted into a disgusting mass of gloppy goo in the rain. "You'd think that _something_ edible would have survived."

"Could be worse. It could have been struck by plasma lightning and caramelized into the perfect nesting ground for eyeless-mome-raths." Casting Aerrow an uneasy glance, Stork joined Finn by the concessions stand. "At least we have water." The carrier pilot shakily pried the soda machine apart to reveal the water tank used when mixing the soft drinks. While the sluicing rain had done wonders in washing the mud and grime – and blood – off them, it had been difficult to collect clean water to drink. "Although the carbonation crystal is gone."

"Good work. Let's salvage what we can and then hit the road again." Aerrow moved up to help the Merb. Together, they pulled the water canister clear.

Finn watched his two companions struggle with the tubing for the water, concern deepening his bright blue eyes. Both of his fellow Storm Hawks looked terrible, their faces ashen, their movements choppy. Even though it was only mid afternoon, traveling through the dangers of Terra Merbia, avoiding its natural terrors as well as the Talons tirelessly hunting them, had been extremely wearing on his injured companions. 'And knowing Aerrow, in trying to find the others, he's going to push himself and Stork until they both collapse. Then what good are they going to be to anyone?' Finn remembered how disoriented Stork was when he first came to. They certainly didn't need any relapses. A rare determination set the marksman's blue eyes. 'That's not gonna happen.' Besides, seeing how little progress that they had made, they wouldn't get much farther even if they slogged through the rest of the day and all the night. They'd be much farther ahead if they stopped now and got a fresh start in the morning. "You . . . uh, _I_ need to stop for a rest."

"This isn't a day trip to Terra Ray. The others need us! You can rest later, Finn," Aerrow protested, hitching the water canister under his good arm. The squadron leader turned to tell Stork to move out, but hesitated. His pilot stumbled to his knees on the muddy ground, shaking uncontrollably and struggling valiantly to regain his feet. The helmsman looked half-drowned in the sluicing rain. Aerrow amended his protest. "Well, maybe we should stop. It wouldn't hurt to get out of this rain for a bit."

Shuddering, Stork nodded and climbed to his feet. Even though he seemed to be recovering from his concussion, he was still lightheaded. His heart constricted in anxiety. That and the added stress of knowing that the others were likely prisoners in _that_ _place_, was really taking its toll on him. The Merb pilot looked up to see Finn and Aerrow poking around in one of the shattered booths.

"Unless you wish to invite our own harrowing demise, we really shouldn't stay there. It's too open to swarming slimewart-beetles . . . not to mention the Cyclonians." Eye twitching, Stork squinted through the deluge to see one of Terra Neon's roller coaster rides. "We would be better off curling up beneath one of the upturned coaster cars instead."

"Dude, you have got to be kidding!" Finn exclaimed incredulously. He placed his hands on his hips. "Aerrow and I want a fire. And you, especially, need to warm up. We need to get dry and _stay_ dry." Matching word for deed, the spiky-haired blonde human turned back to constructing carnival booths into a makeshift shelter. He held up a bent pair of hotdog tongs. "And maybe actually cook our dinner for a change. And have a place where we can actually be out of the mud and rain and stretch out and not sleep smashed up against each other . . . no offense dudes, but you guys smell like wet dogs."

"But the slimewart-beetles . . .." Stork began, but trailed off, too pained and weary to put up much of an argument. His companions would be the death of him yet – if the Cyclonians or man-eating-varpenoids didn't get to him first. Stork dully watched Aerrow and Finn get the booth in shape. After evicting a nest of scamper-serpents, Aerrow dumped a load of stuffed animal prizes to use as bedding. Sighing heavily, Stork slumped off into the driving rain to set a trap or two, but that was all he could manage before dragging himself back to the others.

"Come on!" Finn gritted his teeth and banged the two stones together, trying to coax a spark into the small wad of soggy hotdog wrappers and bits of wood from the booths that he collected. "Come on!" Grunting in frustration, Finn smacked the rocks together again and again. "Light already!"

"Here, let me try," Aerrow moved forward and took the stones from Finn in his good hand. Steadying one stone awkwardly with his right hand, the Sky Knight struck it with the other stone.

"Do Not Use That Arm! If you re-injure your shoulder, you could very easily rip your rotator cuff, tear the muscles, and permanently damage the nerves, paralyzing your entire arm and spend the rest of your life in excruciating agony!" Stork's voice dropped morbidly. Crouching as near as he could tolerate next to Aerrow, the carrier pilot snatched the stones away from his Sky Knight.

"Stork, it doesn't really even hurt any more . . . more like a strained muscle after training or something. I'm fine." Aerrow reached for the stones, but Stork snatched his hand back and scooted closer to Finn. He chucked the rocks out into the rain.

"You'll never get a fire going with those. You need flint and steel to start a fire. And you _will_ end up re-dislocating your shoulder." Concentrating on the needs of the moment, Stork carefully boxed up his rampant fear and shoved it aside. He couldn't repress his emotions for long, but it would be long enough to get the job done. Grunting, Stork set his still-wet survival box on a relatively dry spot of ground and rooted through it.

Pulling out a piston shaft and crystal intake valve as well as other bits and pieces of junk, he reversed the intake valve and wedged it in one end of the piston shaft. Stripping the insulation from some wires, he wrapped it around a broken crossbow bolt's crystal port and snapped it in place on the other end of the contraption. Pleased with the palm-sized, make-shift welding torch, Stork reached out and, ignoring Aerrow's startled protest, plucked one of his leader's hand blades from his back.

"You can't use both of them now anyway." He pried the lightning power crystal from its hilt and screwed it into the torch. Tossing Aerrow's weapon back to the Sky Knight, Stork disappeared into the drenching rain, only to return a short while later, water running from his hair and dripping down his face, even more wet, if possible, than before. Several pieces of coaster car casing were clutched in his arms. He packed the casings with various stuffed animals from their bedding pile.

"Wha?" Aerrow leaned away when his helmsman flicked on the torch and efficiently and deftly welded him, completely encasing his injured shoulder, arm and chest in the coaster car casings.

"Ha! I'd like to see you try to move that shoulder now!" Grinning evilly, Stork ran the snapping, blue lightning flame over the gaps in the casing, completely sealing the joints. "There, now you're even water tight."

"Uh, Stork? Was that really necessary?" Not that he'd ever seriously begrudge his carrier pilot's few fear-free moments, but the young Sky Knight almost wished that Stork had retained his timid demeanor for the night.

"Paralyzing. Life. Long. Agony."

Stork watched Finn struggle with trying to make a fire. This time the sharpshooter had a different rock and was smacking it against a corner of an iron grill. It still wasn't flint. After a short while, Stork produced the small welding torch and easily lit the fire. With a grunt, he flicked off the lightning-flame, returned Aerrow's power crystal, and stuffed the torch into his survival kit. "While all that banging might scare off predators, we're just lucky it didn't attract the Talons." Of course, even they wouldn't be so stupid as to be out in this rain.

The rest of the day slipped by companionably. The trio dried off and warmed up. Finn even managed to cook a decent dinner from the fruits and nuts that Stork foraged throughout their travels. Warmth, food, and being completely dry for the first time in the two days since since crashing on Terra Merbia did more for their recovery than anything else. Finn even managed to find some paint used for touching up the rides and added the word 'Hawk' after the name of the carnival ride '_The_ _Perfect_ _Storm_' emblazoned across Aerrow's chest, forming the phrase 'The Perfect Storm _Hawk_' – complete with racing stripes.

Once it got dark, Stork insisted that they extinguish the fire. The trio of Storm Hawks finally compromised and banked the fire in the ashes.

"Crash landings, giant killer lizards, dredger-trees . . .. Still alive _and_ mostly whole." Stork muttered, keeping watch over his slumbering companions. For their first time on Terra Merbia, his friends were doing okay. "Not bad." Stork yawned, then snapped his eyes wide open. The Merb was so tired. He'd been awake for a couple days now, not to mention the injury and trauma he'd gone through. He couldn't risk closing his eyes on the terrors found in the Merbian night. Neither could he risk the terrors of his dreams without his trance helmet. Thoughts of the Storm Hawks' survival comforted him. It was encouraging that they'd made it this far. His eyes slipped shut again, and this time he couldn't pry them open again. "Not bad at all . . . so far . . .." Sleep pressed down heavily on his chest, crushing him from consciousness.

* * *

><p>Grunting in relief when Stork finally woke from his screaming night terrors, Aerrow removed his hand from the pilot's mouth and slid off the terrified Merb. His helmsman had been screaming on and off all night. Mostly he had just let the night terrors run their course, only quietly murmuring reassurances to help Stork through them – though he doubted whether the carrier pilot even heard him. When the rain had finally stopped a couple of hours ago, however, the Sky Knight had quite the challenge keeping him quiet enough to not attract unwanted attention. He even had tried waking him, but unlike a normal nightmare, it was impossible to waken his helmsman from a night terror. Even Finn had woken a short while ago and, not being able to stand to see Stork like that, had gone to check the perimeter.<p>

"The tr . . ." Shaking uncontrollably, Stork looked around, disoriented. His pale yellow eyes darted about their make-shift shelter before settling on Aerrow's face. ". . . tra . . . tor!" Wincing, he pulled his knees up to his chest and ducked his head, letting his fine black hair fall across his face. "Trai . . ." Unable to get the word out, he squeezed his eyes closed, gasping and wheezing for breath.

"You're okay, buddy." Aerrow squinted against the early morning light and reached out to place a comforting hand on Stork's spasming shoulder, but hesitated. Instead he shoved a plush teddybear into the pilot's trembling arms. The Merb had been screaming out Aerrow's name in his sleep terror, begging him to stop with promises to behave. The chilling dream made Aerrow's heart break and ice run through his veins. _Why_ would Stork be having dreams like that? It was no wonder the pilot couldn't stand to touch him. The whole thing reminded him eerily – and unpleasantly – of his whip nightmare. "Stork . . .."

"Aerrow! You got him awake, good." Finn popped into the booth that they slept in to get his distracted leader's attention. Stork was hyperventilating. "The Dark Ace, Snipe, _and_ Ravess are all attacking!" Finn snatched Stork's teddybear, stuffing it into the Merb's emergency kit before slinging its strap over his shoulder. He really wished that they had taken Stork's advice on where to sleep after all. Finn grunted. "At least the dart trap that Stork set last night took out the Cyclonian commanders' troops." The darts scavenged from a game booth tipped in the venom of the giant-sauria-agama had the Talons snoozing even before they hit the ground.

"Let's get out of here!" Aerrow grabbed Stork, dragging the Merb to his feet. There was no way in their current condition that they stood a prayer of a chance against Dark Ace, Ravess and Snipe working together. "Head for '_The_ _Aftershock_!'" Wildly, the Sky Knight led his little squadron deeper into Terra Neon's demolished amusement park. The rides rose up before them, the fallen roller coaster undulating through the trees like a great, beached sea serpent.

* * *

><p>"Run, little Sky Knight," Dark Ace laughed at the fleeing Storm Hawks. He would have his pleasure very soon. Happy for the first time since encountering the Storm Hawks on the warp mission, the crimson-eyed warrior dismounted his skimmer and stepped into the Sky Knight's abandoned shack to check for more traps. He had no desire to be taken out with another of the brats' childish pranks. An acrid scent wafted up, pulling Dark Ace's smile into a frown. It took a moment to realize that he was standing in the Storm Hawks' fire pit, the sleeping embers having found new fuel in his boot. He leapt back with a shout, stamping his feet to put out the flames.<p>

Ravess and Snipe stepped up, just having extracted themselves from Stork's second trap. Dark Ace snarled at them, daring the siblings to laugh at his misfortune. "Don't just hover . . . after them!"

* * *

><p>"We need to split up!"<p>

"Worst plan ever!" Finn muttered, hearing Aerrow's shouted command. While he may be able to give the Cyclonian commanders the slip and escape, the other two didn't stand a chance in their condition. "No way, Aerrow. Two free Storm Hawks are better than one free Storm Hawk. You get Stork out of here, and I'll cover you . . .! Just be sure to rescue me, okay?" He thrust Stork's survival kit into the Sky Knight's good hand.

Skidding to a halt, Finn whipped around to face the Talons, eyes widening when he saw Snipe bouncing his crystal mace against his hand, laughing.

"Not this time, brat!" Dark Ace snarled, leaving the boy who wrecked his skimmer to the siblings. He revved up his ride and took off after Aerrow and Stork. "Snipe, take this one . . . and don't let him get away like you did their furry little pet!"

Just as Aerrow and Stork disappeared into the wrecked amusement park, the Sky Knight jumped and cut down a flag streamer. It tangled around the Dark Ace, momentarily binding his eyes and giving the two a bit of a head start.

With a ferocious yell, the Cyclonian bruiser raised his crystalline mace and leapt toward Finn.

"Aaaaaaah!" Yelling in alarm, Finn launched himself into a backflip and slipped beneath one of the fallen roller coaster tracks to block Snipe's next strike. He flinched as Snipe brought his mace down – completely tearing away the rail and leaving him exposed. He dodged a volley of Ravess' arrows – their tips back to their normal violet hue. "Oh man, I could really use a weapon right about now!"

Yelling, Snipe launched a flurry of bashes, forcing Finn to hop and jump to avoid being smushed. He ducked as the mace whistled overhead, feeling it swish through his hair, and scooped up something from the ground. He cocked his arm to throw it, not even registering what it was. The target duck from the shooting game bounced harmlessly off Snipe's armored shoulder with a quack, and Finn caught the Cyclonian's mace squarely in the ribs. Gasping in pain, the marksman flung backwards to crater into the side of an upended booth. He struggled to his knees, tangled in a mass of streamers.

"Very nice, _little_ brother." Ravess raised an eyebrow and leveled her bow at the blonde boy. She didn't mind Snipe subduing this Storm Hawk. She didn't like getting dirty. Besides, it was about time someone else did the work around here. She'd brought in the others herself.

"Hahaha!" Grinning widely at the Storm Hawk's predicament, Snipe jumped forward to finish the sharpshooter.

Twisting about, Finn pulled free of the streamers and scooped up a plunger rifle from the duck hunt game. Pulling the trigger, Finn loosed a volley of plungers, nailing Ravess and throwing off her aim. Smirking cockily, the Storm Hawk targeted Snipe as well. The huge Cyclonian tried to bash the projectiles from the air, but ending up getting the little plungers riddled across his body and one stuck in the middle of his forehead. Looking cross-eyed up at it, Snipe yanked it free, leaving a small red circle there.

"Enough of this!" Frustrated with the marksman's inane antics, Snipe's eye fell on a bumper pod. He gave it a hefty kick, sending it careening toward Finn with death-inducing speed.

Finn squeaked as the kiddie skyride smashed into him, crashing him in one side of the booth and out the other, driving him to crater against the coaster's support pylon. Gasping in pain, he shakily shoved the bumper pod off of him. "Ouch. That hurt." Finn looked up just in time to see Snipe, Ravess standing behind her brother, raise his mace and smash him into blackness.

* * *

><p>Moaning, Finn put a hand to his forehead and tried to sit up.<p>

"You should rest."

"Huh?" Finn blinked, his eyes widening when he found he was laying on a comfortable settee in a very nice room – with his head cradled on a pretty girl's lap. His eyes wandered up her curves, but snagged on the vulture-like insignia of Cyclonia. "You're a Talon!"

The marksman Storm Hawk shot upright, barely registering that he was bare-chested, his uniform cleaned and draped over a nearby chair. The sudden movement flared his headache and Finn nearly passed out again. In his condition, the girl easily held his shoulders, keeping him from rising.

"Master Cyclonis hopes that you enjoy your stay as her guest." The pretty girl batted her eyelids and she pressed her soft lips to the Storm Hawk's forehead to soothe away the pain.

"Ooooh." Finn sank back down, into the arms of the enemy. 'Come rescue me, guys, . . . but you can take your time.'

* * *

><p>AN:

Mome-raths courtesy _Jabberwocky_ by Lewis Carroll.

(Humpty Dumpty says following the poem: "A 'rath' is a sort of green pig: but 'mome" I'm not certain about. I think it's short for 'from home', meaning that they'd lost their way." Carroll's notes for the original in Mischmasch state: "a species of Badger [which] had smooth white hair, long hind legs, and short horns like a stag [and] lived chiefly on cheese." Explanatory book notes comment that 'Mome' means to seem 'grave' and a 'Rath': is "a species of land turtle. Head erect, mouth like a shark, the front forelegs curved out so that the animal walked on its knees, smooth green body, lived on swallows and oysters." In the 1951 film version, the mome raths are small, multi-colored creatures with tufty hair, round eyes, and long legs resembling pipe stems.)


	7. Chapter 7

Storm Hawks:

"**Truth or Suicide"**

(This story takes place after episode (36 – 210) "Scouts Honor"

and after my fanfic "Something Like That")

Rated T.

Disclaimer: Storm Hawks is a Nerd Corps Entertainment, Inc. Original Production.

**When nightmares come true and the present meets the past, the only way out . . . is through. It's Truth or Suicide.**

**Stork centric, but all involved. While it is not required to read my last fic "Something Like That" – this story does reference events from that title.**

* * *

><p>"I would ask how this could get any worse, . . . but I really don't want to know." Shivering, Aerrow hunkered farther down, pressing his back against the crumbling dirt wall of the greater-bothrops-asper-viper burrow. He absently rubbed at his aching shoulder, though with it encased as it was, it didn't do much good. With consternation, he noted that the water sloshing around their make-shift shelter had now risen up another handspan. Outside, the wind howled like a wounded beast. "The water's getting higher."<p>

"Not to worry. We still have a long way before we drown," Stork replied shakily, and scuttled a little farther away from the Sky Knight, "unless the torrent crumbles the den's support, suffocating us in a paralyzing cascade of mud." His breath labored and harsh, the helmsman peered out of the burrow's muddy entrance. The bellowing storm outside was finally abating. Stork sighed. It was ironic, really, that it was only the sudden hurricane that blew Dark Ace off their tail. The Cyclonian commander had them cornered. Plus, it was just plain dumb luck that they found this monster lair to wait out the raging storm – after Aerrow had finished off the creature.

"Though barring that untimely demise, the supercell hurricane is worse than anything we could have encountered in the nest." Trembling, Stork rubbed his arms. "Of course, if the rain doesn't stop soon, we'll be faced with the unpleasant choice between being torn apart by the storm or drowned." Stork grunted. While he thought a lot about death, he never desired to choose the manner of his own demise. A sudden silence surrounded them. "Ah hah! The eye of the storm has hit. It's safe enough now. We'd better move quickly."

Nodding once sharply, Aerrow scooted past the Merb pilot and stiffly emerged out of the pit viper's burrow. The squadron leader looked around. Broken trees and vegetation littered the area – the devastation from the hurricane – and water sloshed around their ankles. The Sky Knight's mouth pulled into a grim line. There was no wind. Looking up, Aerrow's eye caught on the strangely calm blue skies above, but he could see angry swirling clouds all around the horizon. "The calm won't last long. We'd better hurry. We've already wasted the better part of the day waiting out the storm."

"I'd hardly label staying alive as wasted time," Stork muttered darkly as he, too, gingerly pulled himself up, slinging his survival kit over one shoulder with trembling hands. "Not that it matters, seeing as we're walking straight to our own demise. We're close. The Cyclonian base is just beyond that ridge."

"That close?" The Sky Knight couldn't even shake his head at his paranoid helmsman's 'doom and gloom.' Aerrow glanced at the carrier pilot, worry deepening his emerald eyes. Stork was shaking badly and struggling to breathe normally. A frown pulled at the squadron leader's mouth. He was worried about Finn and the others, but right now he was more concerned about Stork. The closer they got to the Cyclonian labor camp, the worse his pilot got. Unable to come up with anything to reassure the Merb, Aerrow decided it was best just to finish this. "Right then. Let's get going."

Nodding silently, Stork led the way up the isolated ridge, weaving through bits of branches and tangled debris strewn about by the hurricane. His heart hammered painfully in his chest and he sucked in an aching breath. A low, guttural moan escaped his nearly paralyzed lungs as he crested the ridge. The Merb fell to his knees.

"_So_ not good," Aerrow murmured and looked over at Stork. A sudden anxiety hit him. Where? When? But the Merb kneeling at his feet, a look of abject horror plastered on his face as he stared up at the labor camp – he'd _seen_ that before. A sick knot tightened his gut and he tore his gaze away from the helmsman, staring up at the heavy square buildings squatting before him, their silvery metal walls glinting coldly in the light. The image forcefully drove his haunting nightmare to the fore of his mind with such violence that he momentarily staggered. "Wha . . .? No, . . . no this isn't possible! I never . . . I _wouldn't_ . . .." And yet, it was directly after that dream that Stork's behavior toward him had changed. Shaken, Aerrow glanced down at his own hand and flexed his right within his makeshift cast just to ensure that he wasn't holding a whip. Swallowing the sudden leaden lump in his throat, Aerrow shakily ran his good hand through his hair. What had Stork said? Damaged. They were not injured during the attack, but damaged. "Stork, how were we attacked? What happ . . .."

Completely ignoring the question, the carrier pilot dragged in a ragged breath and pressed down closer to the scraggly grasses. "There's a break in the patrols. We need to get in now, before the guards return to their posts after the hurricane."

Nodding mutely, Aerrow stepped toward the camp. First things first; but he _was_ going to talk with Stork about this – once they were out of deadly peril.

"Aerrow!" Stork hissed and suddenly tackled the young Sky Knight driving him face-first into the wet, scrubby grass.

"Stork, what are you doing?" Aerrow cut off his protest when his pilot pointed out the line of charred ground before him. Dead plants as well as a few skeletal remains of small creatures delineated the camp.

"Unless you wish to die a quick but truly agonizing death, you'd better watch the containment field."

"Thanks." At least Stork was still able to function through his terror – at least somewhat. Aerrow pushed himself back to his knees, watching as the green-skinned Merb shakily moved over to a gorgon-redwhip-coral bush. "I thought you said never to touch those."

"I told _Finn_ never to touch these," Stork replied grimly and gingerly reached into the writhing center of the plant, careful to avoid the flailing whip-like twigs. "The Merbian resistance uses this place to hide the entry crystals so the Cyclonians won't ever find them." Trembling, he pulled out a glittering crystal – one of the two hidden in the coral. It was a rough, unrefined stone, skillfully amalgamated from bits and chips of various crystals that the resistance scavenged from the work floors. "We . . . they always leave at least one of these crystals on either side of the field in case of emergency." He paused. "Well, in case of potentially-fatal-better-get-out-before-the-whole-resistance-is-blown type of emergency, anyway. On Terra Merbia, there's always some type of disaster. Luckily there were two here, so I don't have to use the entry crystal from the other side to ferry this one back."

Gulping down a steadying breath, Stork reached out and gingerly grasped Aerrow's good arm, brandishing the crystal and leading him through the containment field. He thought he'd never have to do this again. He winced, a faint tingling coursing through their bodies as they crossed the containment line. Letting out a sigh of relief, Stork moved to place the crystal in its hiding place on this side of the containment field, but hesitated. Changing his mind, the carrier pilot instead stuffed the extra crystal into his survival pack. If they had to make a quick retreat, they wouldn't have time to search for a key.

Dashing into the camp, the two Storm Hawks flattened themselves against the nearest of the square metal buildings. The long lines of windowless structures squatted down in the muddy dirt. A few buildings down, the lane opened up into a wide tarmac where the two Storm Hawks could see people from Terra Neon hauling and stacking crates. Talon guards bullied those under them into labors to which they were unfamiliar, and flicked their whips when any failed in their tasks. Beyond the open grounds, the crystal processing plant from Terra Nord stood out incongruously.

"You there." A small Merb, too young to even be a Sky Scout, cringed at the guard's harsh command. The Talon jerked the young Neonian that he'd just lashed to his feet and shoved him, along with several exhausted Neonian children and an injured woman toward the ochre-skinned child. "Get this dross patched up and ready to work again, or it will be your hide I take it out on." Not even looking up, the young Merb tugged the Neonians with him to another building.

The few Merbs that they saw didn't spare the two interlopers any attention – not drawing attention to the two strangers was the only aid that they could render. The only ones not engaged in hard labor were the Talon guards and the ubiquitous Cyclonian patrols. Disgust twisted Aerrow's gut. These people were being driven like beasts of burden. And that kid! How could anyone expect one so young to tend to the wounded? "This is terrible."

"They're better off," Stork tilted his chin, indicating the Neon people still laboring in the training yard. He cowered from the sound of a cracking whip. "At least if they don't collapse, they'll get full rations tonight. It's not until after 'orientation' that they're sent to the shipyard."

"Now _that's_ disturbing. If this is 'better off,' what's it like at the shipyard?" Wondering at Stork's cryptic words, Aerrow tore his gaze from the slave labor camp and turned toward his helmsman when he got no further reply. "Stork, you okay, buddy?"

Sinking down to the ground beside a barrack wall, Stork cowered before his brutally raging memories, his breath coming in harsh gasps and his left eye twitching. They'd stood here too long. He wrapped his arms around his knees, wheezing. The slide into darkness was all too easy without any immediate action on which to concentrate.

"Hey, Stork, come on. We'll get through this." Crouching down in front of his pilot, Aerrow pitched his voice gentle and low, trying to guide the Merb through. Now was probably the worst time for a panic attack, but there was really very little he could do to help. Carefully biting back his frustration, the Sky Knight continued. "I know you asked for time. I'm willing to give it, but I doubt the Cyclonians are."

"I don't want excuses," the Dark Ace's deep voice jolted Aerrow from his concern. The Storm Hawk leader peeked up to see Master Cyclonis' right hand man.

Startled, the young Sky Knight carefully grasped Stork and dragged the hyperventilating Merb farther between the buildings. Evidently the Cyclonian commander had made it back to the base before the hurricane peaked. Too bad. Stealthily, Aerrow slid another step back. Dark Ace and the guard patrol he addressed hadn't yet seen them.

"The worst of the storm is nearly over. I want those patrols out now! If we waited for gentle breezes and clear skies on Merbia, we would accomplish nothing," Dark Ace snarled. His own trip through the supercell hurricane was anything but easy – that made two skyrides he'd lost to the Merbian marshes in almost as many days. "The Sky Knight and his pilot are here . . . or soon will be. The _Condor's_ crash site is so heavily guarded that Cyclonis herself wouldn't be able to sneak in. There is no other place on the terra for them to go. If they want to reunite with their squadron or find rides to escape, they have to come _here_." The crimson-eyed warrior stifled his irritation at Aerrow's continued freedom. Besides, the _heroes_ were last seen heading this way.

Aerrow grunted in frustration. He and Stork were backed into a corner with Dark Ace in front and the wide open "prisoner-training" area behind. Pushing the still-panicky carrier pilot behind him, Aerrow slipped a hand-blade from his back and thumbed on its charge. "If we're going to be caught, I'm taking a preemptive strike and getting in the first shot. We're not going down without a . . .."

The lock suddenly popped open on the building across the way and the door creaked open. Chittering, Radarr popped his head out through the crack.

"Radarr!" Smiling broadly, Aerrow grabbed Stork's arms and pulled him through the door. He opened his mouth to say more, but the small lemur-like creature hopped onto his shoulder and pulled his hair, quietly chittering a warning in his ear.

Aerrow looked around. The crowded room contained pallets – each containing the sick and injured. The only light in the windowless room was from several fragmented crystal lamps sitting on counters. Most of the patients were Merbs but he also saw the small group of Neonians there as well. The small Merb who led them here was still tending the young man's lash marks. Most of the patients were busy separating crystal shards on lap trays, not allowed to cease all labor even when ill. Aside from a few young Merb children and a truly ancient looking Merbian unable to manage heavier labor, there were no caregivers in the infirmary.

Seemingly unaware of the intruders, the old Merb fumbled the tray that she carried, distracting the ever-present guards so Radarr could quickly usher his friends into the backroom unnoticed. When the guard made to backhand the clumsy slave, one of the children bent to pick up the tray, 'accidentally' tripping the Talon over his small form, distracting the guards even further. From the pallet where he rested, a middle-aged Merb watched the Storm Hawks slip into the back room, his eyes widening in recognition.

Aerrow paused to slow his breath once the back door clicked closed.

"Oh g-glory be! Radarr said you would get here relatively intact." Tall and gangly like most of his kind, a scarred-faced Merb stepped forward to meet them, stuttering only slightly. The Merb turned to chitter a short conversation with Radarr. The small lemur-like creature nodded once then hopped over to one of the pallets on the floor. It was obvious that while the outer room held the injured, this room housed the seriously ill. With a final glance at the furry Storm Hawk for reassurance, the Merb turned to his guests. "Welcome, I'm Herron, one of Merbia's r-resistance leaders. I snagged your copilot out of harm's way when he escaped the Cyclonians."

"Pleased to meet you, Herron." Aerrow noticed that he had the same hunch-shouldered demeanor as his carrier pilot, as if he expected a strike. 'Not surprising really.' "I'm . . .."

What did surprise Aerrow was that instead of shaking his extended left hand, the resistance leader sank to one knee in front of Stork, both hands briefly pressed flat against the floor, before clasping both of the Storm Hawk pilot's hands in his own.

"S-Stork lad, I . . . I thought you were shot down into the wastelands. I despaired of ever seeing you again. How did you survive?" Herron kept his eyes fixed on the young Merb's face, but Stork, still shaking and jittering, didn't respond. His yellow eyes saddened, but the older Merb was not surprised that his young friend struggled with a surge of nightmare memories upon his return. Herron's eyes flicked over to Aerrow, inviting an answer.

"Nearly two years ago some friends and I went searching for my father's carrier ship that the Cyclonians had shot down in the first war." Aerrow struggled with how much detail he should delve into his recounting of reforming the Storm Hawks squadron. The words faltered and he cleared his throat before continuing. While giving an abbreviated version of finding Stork and the repaired _Condor_, Aerrow realized that he had no idea how long his carrier pilot had been in the wastelands, only that he had been searching for the key 'for years.' The thought was sobering. When he told the resistance leader about Stork's repairs and upgrades to the _Condor_, Herron smiled fondly.

"That's my lad." Patting Stork's hands, Herron stood and drew the trembling young Storm Hawk over to where Radarr was allowing himself to be petted by the sick Merb children in the ward. The resistance leader settled Stork on a mat beside a small toddler. The carrier pilot promptly drew his knees up to his chest and ducked his head, still wheezing. "Here, lad, just relax there a bit."

"It d-doesn't surprise me any that Stork rebuilt your _Condor_. The thrice-cursed Cyclonians had him working in the shipyard before he was big enough to even read the blueprints." Herron's gaze lingered on the Merb youth that, until now, he had thought dead before he turned back to the Storm Hawk leader.

Aerrow smiled warmly. The resistance leader seemed willing to reminisce, and the Sky Knight was all too willing to let him. Yes, their mission to find the others was urgent, but until Stork's panic ebbed, they couldn't risk continuing their search.

"By the time most youths in Atmos are going to Sky Scouts, he was wielding a welding torch." Herron sighed, his eyes flicking once nervously toward the door.

Over by the children, Stork stirred, uncurling and finally breaking through the memories reeling in his mind. Dully noticing the infant near him, the carrier pilot dug through his emergency kit with trembling hands. He stuffed the teddybear he found into the child's arms before removing and mixing a variety of plants and extracts that he had collected on their journey though the Merbian swamplands.

Aerrow and Herron exchanged relieved smiles. This was more the Stork that they both knew and loved. This seemed to be Stork's modus operandi. He panicked, but when push came to shove, he became deadly proficient. The carrier pilot wasn't recovered yet, but given a little more time, he would be.

Herron smiled proudly. "Even at four years old, the tyke was good at tracking, foraging, and avoiding d-dangers, . . . not to mention his traps. With the Talon task masters forcing all our able bodied adults to work to exhaustion, we had to set the youngsters to taking care of the sick and foraging for medicants and such. B-by the time he was ten, he was the best doctor I ever had. More than half the compound owes their l-lives to young Stork there when, almost single-handed, he curtailed the Alterian-mind-worm infestation that struck the workforce."

Stunned by the revelation that there really was such a thing as mind-worms and that Stork really had dealt with them before, Aerrow nearly forgot to ask a question that had been tickling at the back of his mind since Herron first greeted the Storm Hawk pilot. "Um, Herron, are you . . . that is, is Stork your . . .?"

"Son? No, more's the pity. His p-parents were taken down at the Cyclonian occupation." A look of intense sadness clouded the resistance leader's eyes and he wrung his hands anxiously. If Stork had been his son, the Cyclonians wouldn't have targeted the young orphan even as a child. Herron's eyes focused on the young Sky Knight before him and his heart wrenched. The Storm Hawk, all of them, were so young. How could they learn if there was no one to teach them?

"You see, Merbia is the closest inhabited terra to Cyclonia. As such, for c-centuries we were the first line of defense and first warning of invasion by the Cyclonians for the rest of Atmos. When Sky Knight Lightning Strike and his Storm Hawks fell to t-treachery over a decade ago, the alliance of the various terras and their Sky Knight squadrons fell apart. Our Sky Knight, Falcon, and the Renegades, his squadron, fought and lost alone. The _Albatross_ – their carrier ship – was no match for the Cyclonian fleet. Merbia was quickly conquered and made into a slave state. The labor camp's main industry is a large shipyard."

The resistance leader paused, twitching slightly, a note of pride entering his voice. "Despite being so heavily hit with the first w-wave of attack and subsequent Talon occupation, we Merbs continued to stand in the way with such persistence that, despite their victory, it took the Cyclonians nearly ten years before they could effectively get around our resistance and s-sabotage to attack the other terras again."

The older Merb winked at Aerrow, his voice dropping conspiratorially. "The Merbian resistance still sabotage their work in the shipyard . . . it's the main reason that Talon equipment falls apart so easily."

"Wow." Aerrow gaped at the older Merb. "How come I've never heard this before?"

"Maybe because history is taught by the victors," Herron muttered darkly. He could scarcely imagine that Master Cyclonis would broadcast the truth as part of her propaganda. Plus, being a slave state, Merbia was cut off from the rest of the atmos.

"Herron, Stork said that your free colony is on the conjoining terra. We never heard about that out in the atmos either." Aerrow shot a glance over at where his two teammates were still tending to the children. A wry smirk tugged the corner of his mouth when Radarr suppressed a squeak as one of the kids pulled his tail.

"Stork must trust you implicitly. Not even most of the captive Merbs know about that. The Cyclonians would destroy the whole c-colony if they had any inkling about them." Stork trusted his squadron leader, and as such, Herron found that he trusted Aerrow as well. Following the young Sky Knight's gaze, Herron also smiled. The Storm Hawks were good kids. "Yes, we worked out an 'underground' in the early years of the Cyclonian occupation to smuggle various of our people from Merbia proper to found a free colony. A p-place where our culture and customs could be preserved, unsullied by the Cyclonians. I trust Stork showed you how to get through the barrier?"

Herron waited for Aerrow's nod before continuing. The resistance leader felt an urgency to share with the Sky Knight the truth of the past that would die under the Cyclonian occupation. He looked Aerrow straight in the eye. "Once we got the crystal key worked out, we started leading families and small groups to the neighboring summit. Stork's t-traps kept the guards busy. By the time he was eleven, he was guiding the groups on his own, but he'd always come back. He refused to abandon his people here. It was d-during his last run that he was shot down. Someone ratted him out. We never did find the leak. Not that it mattered by then. Stork was already g-gone."

In the silence that stretched between them, Aerrow realized that when Stork said he "escaped to the wastelands," it was a vast oversimplification. A shadow fell over the pair. Looking up, Aerrow saw his carrier pilot struggling for words, a whole gamut of emotions crossing his face.

"Did they make it?" Stork tried to keep his voice steady, but it quavered at the end. He feared the answer, but he had to know. He had to lay to rest one more nightmare if he could. The Merb pilot always felt that his job as an underground guide was a much easier burden than the things his jailers required of him, but losing that family had always haunted his dreams. He dragged in a shuddering breath. His left eye twitched. "The family that I was escorting . . . did they make it?"

"Yes, lad. They parachuted in fine." Herron smiled in grim amusement when Stork literally wilted in relief at the news. The resistance Merb sighed. That family was supposed to take in their guide once there – not that Stork knew that – and there was nothing to be gained by mentioning it now. The Cyclonians had targeted the young Stork by that time and the resistance leaders felt that they had to remove him from mainland Merbia for his own safety. "The mother was an animal-speak Merb, just as I am. Since we can't risk written m-messages from the colony being intercepted, she sent a Merbian carrier pigeon with the news of the Talon attack. She told us how you drew off the Cyclonians after their transport was shot out from under them so they could escape without the Talons t-tracking them."

Aerrow grinned at the notion that 'a little birdie told him.' Radarr scampered up his Sky Knight's back and settled on his shoulder, chittering agreement with the Merbian resistance leader. When Sky Scout Pidge had claimed that he could speak to animals, the Storm Hawk leader had doubted him, but apparently it was a trait that certain Merbs actually had. That could come in very handy. Aerrow sobered as another thought crossed his mind. The Storm Hawks needed all the help that they could get. "Herron, you said that Falcon and his Renegades fell during the Cyclonian takeover. Who's your Sky Knight now? We could really use the Renegades' help."

Herron regarded the three Storm Hawks somberly and shook his head. "The Cyclonians destroyed our last Sky Knight."

"What's that noise?" Ears twitching with reawakening trained reflexes, Stork shakily pulled himself back over to the door. He reached out a trembling hand and carefully laid it on the portal. It was happening again – the betrayal. It was the only way that the Cyclonians could have known they were here in the intensive ward. "Ohhh, not good. We definitely have company coming."

"Then it's time for us to go." Aerrow really wasn't finished with their conversation, but it looked like they were out of time. The young Sky Knight exchanged a brief nod with his carrier pilot. The fugitive Storm Hawks had to go out to meet the guards, instead of drawing them in where Herron and the resistance would be exposed. Drawing his lightning blade in his left hand, the Sky Knight assured that Radarr was by his side and stepped out the door.

"A little bird told me that you were here." A pleased sneer twisted Dark Ace's lips at the sight of the young Sky Knight and his Merb helmsman – as well as the small creature, Radarr, that had escaped Snipe's grip earlier. "Well, well, well, so the little birdie . . . or should I say stool pigeon . . . was right." He threw his head back and laughed as a single Merb slipped out the door behind them. The Merb informant would be getting his 'due' later, since the Storm Hawks were obviously expecting him.

The Cyclonian commander drew his double-bladed sword, slammed a firebolt crystal into its hilt, and flicked it on. Behind him, the compliment of Talon guards fanned out to block the Storm Hawks' escape. The Dark Ace's slight disappointment that he hadn't caught Aerrow unawares in the back room vanished in the prospects of battle. "This is going to be fun!"

The other slave Merbs scattered, dragging the few recovering Neonians with them, their trays of crystal fragments left strewn about their mats.

Dark Ace snarled as his eye caught on the phrase painted across Aerrow's chest. Even injured and severely outnumbered, the Sky Knight brat was arrogant. It _was_ arrogance, even though Aerrow had – the Dark Ace was loathe to acknowledge – proved himself in battle against him time after time. Baring his teeth, the crimson-eyed warrior leapt forward, bringing his sword over his head. "The Perfectly _Dead_ Storm Hawk, you mean!"

"In your dreams, Dark Ace." Aerrow dipped one shoulder to the side, catching Dark Ace's flickering sword with his own blade and spinning the enemy commander around. The crystal blades sparked madly with the contact. He grimaced and solidly kicked the Cyclonian in the back. The Sky Knight's brow creased, disgust at the battle-lust burning in his opponent's eyes twisting his mouth into a frown. "Or my nightmares."

Flashing his blade overhead, Aerrow leapt into a roundhouse kick before Dark Ace could recover, sweeping his feet from beneath him and sending the commander staggering back into his own troops. The Talons' crystal tipped staffs clattered to the floor. Stork cringed back as one rolled against his foot and Aerrow's frown deepened, a slow burn beginning to build in his gut. What had the wretched Cyclonians done to _HIS_ Storm Hawk to so completely 'condition' – beat more likely – the use of hand weapons out of Stork?

"What have you _done_?" Aerrow snarled and reversed the grip on his blade. Anger fueling his movements, the Sky Knight brandished his weapon, slicing a ribbon of lightning through his enemies. Several of the Talons cowered in terror at the Storm Hawk squadron leader's anger. "Whoa!" The force of Aerrow's one-armed strike threw him off balance and he tumbled down with the Talons.

"D-Dark Ace!" Stork called when he saw the Cyclonian sneaking up behind Aerrow. He tried to make his voice forceful, but it just came out shaky. The Merb Storm Hawk cringed under the commander's baleful glare, but continued anyway. "Um, you do know that Master Cyclonis and her grandmother used a lathestone on you when you were a Storm Hawk, don't you? It was the only way to turn you against Lightning Strike and betray Atmos!"

Aerrow dragged himself from the pile of moaning Talons, but stopped in stunned horror at the Merb's words. The mysterious, damaging attack on the Storm Hawks – his dream whip and the slave camp – he might not know what a lathestone was, but he could guess at its function.

Whether the Dark Ace knew of the lathestone used against him beforehand or not, he'd been in his thoroughly conditioned state for more than a decade. He laughed at the Merb's pathetic attempt to dissuade him from his chosen path – whether he chose that path himself or if another had, it no longer mattered. "Of course. It was the best thing that ever happened to me."

Snarling, Aerrow and Dark Ace crossed blades again, each straining against the other.

"Not to rush you, Aerrow, but the longer we stay here, the greater our risk of a horrific and tortuous demise! In fact, we might already be too late." Dark Ace would not let them slip from his grasp again. Stork's ears twitched at the sound of more approaching guards and dread congealed in his throat with sickening certainty. His left eye twitched. "Yup, I was right."

Shakily reaching out, Stork grabbed the closest table lamp and yanked a twisted multicore cable out of its base. He shoved the exposed wires into the crystal fragments lying nearby, smiling in grim satisfaction when the entire counter of crystals sparked wildly, billowing smoke and providing them with the cover that they needed to escape. The Merb pilot grabbed his teammates and shoved them out the door. "Move, now! We need to head back through the containment field – at least in the wilds we hold a slightly less chance of complete annihilation."

Sprinting after his Sky Knight, Stork stooped to snag a handful of scattered crystal fragments from the floor. He dashed the shards against the ground, smiling darkly at the resultant explosion when their fragile structures breached, knocking their enemies back. He yelped in alarm when one of the recovering Talon guards grabbed him from behind.

"Stork!" Aerrow yelled and turned back, but before he could move, Radarr leapt from his side, clawing and snarling, shredding the unfortunate Talon's uniform – the attack so fierce that the enemy reeled, starbursts dancing in his vision and bells ringing in his ears. The Sky Knight watched, dismayed as both Stork and Radarr were surrounded, cut off from their escape.

"Surrender to me, Aerrow." Smirking, Dark Ace leveled his luridly-glowing sword at the Merb pilot's throat. "Or you'll get your pilot back in pieces!"

"Forget it! I'm doomed anyway." Snatching Radarr with tremoring hands, Stork stuffed the small copilot into his survival box with the amalgamated key crystal and lobbed the entire pack to his leader. He stood no chance of escape, but Aerrow and Radarr did. "As long as you remain free, Aerrow, you can free the others. The Dark Ace is bluffing. Cyclonis wants me alive, you know that, . . . I'll be fine. GO!"

"No one's fine in Master Cyclonis' grasp," Aerrow muttered, torn. His heart wrenched between concern and necessity. In the corner of his eyes, he could see the Talons moving to surround him. He eyed his helmsman briefly, then – with effort – left Stork to his nightmare. Clutching the case holding his last remaining teammate tightly to his chest, the Storm Hawks' sole remaining hope sprinted back along the bleak buildings and through the containment field, disappearing into the wilds. "Remember, Stork, you promised. Just hold on."


	8. Chapter 8

Storm Hawks:

"**Truth or Suicide"**

(This story takes place after episode (36 – 210) "Scouts Honor"

and after my fanfic "Something Like That")

Rated T.

Disclaimer: Storm Hawks is a Nerd Corps Entertainment, Inc. Original Production.

**When nightmares come true and the present meets the past, the only way out . . . is through. It's Truth or Suicide.**

**Stork centric, but all involved. While it is not required to read my last fic "Something Like That" – this story does reference events from that title.**

* * *

><p>"You cost me my prize!" Dark Ace snarled, his face twisting in rage. "You pathetic excuse of a Storm Hawk!" Livid at the young Sky Knight's escape, the crimson-eyed warrior furiously turned to the carrier pilot. He bared his teeth and drove a brutal fist into the pilot's stomach, enhancing the blow with the full strength of the hydraulic accentuator on his left arm. "Aerrow was <em>mine<em>!"

Staggering as the Cyclonian commander hit him again, Stork sucked in a pained breath. The green-skinned Merb doubled over and fell to his knees, cowering before Dark Ace. He was well and truly doomed, but at least Aerrow and Radarr escaped. At least now he knew it wouldn't be Aerrow haunting his nightmares.

"You will regret crossing me! I will see to it!" Dark Ace growled and stepped forward to thrash the insolent Merb, but – with effort – he stopped himself. "Master Cyclonis won't want her toy too damaged to play with." With an evil sneer, Dark Ace yanked the Storm Hawk to his feet and roughly shoved him toward the master's building.

Staggering as Dark Ace shoved him again, Stork stumbled up the stairs, horrified. His breath came harsh and ragged and he fought to subdue the paralyzing dread swelling in his gut. She was here. _She_ was here! It couldn't get worse than this! – and for once, the paranoid Merb was right. Quivering, Stork staggered again. His knees threatened to buckle, the breath in his lungs congealing with dread. Only the Dark Ace's harsh shoves kept him moving. He tried to suppress his growing terror, but was unable to control the rampant fear crawling through his veins.

"Master Cyclonis has _so_ been anticipating your arrival." Dark Ace stopped outside a thick octagonal door and tapped the door activator. When the Storm Hawk refused to enter Cyclonis' office, he laughed and dragged the pilot over the threshold. Behind them, the door closed with a final sort of click.

"The Storm Hawk, Stork." The crimson-eyed warrior shoved the Merb carrier pilot to the floor in front of his empress. "As you requested."

"Excellent, Dark Ace. You never disappoint me." She forced her attention to other matters of import, though triumph – and anticipation – shone in her eyes. "What is the status of the warp crystal array?"

"Still critical, but the new cooling structure has not cracked any of the warp crystals. It will be cool enough to issue Terra Bounteous's _aid __contract _on schedule." A vile smirk twisted his lips and Dark Ace crossed his arms and leaned against the bookshelf-lined wall. He would destroy anyone who suggested such a thing, but he felt a surge of 'brotherly' pride for his young master.

"Perfect." Master Cyclonis nodded once then turned to address her captive. "Stork, I am so pleased that you arrived at long last." The dark empress paced a circle around the Merb huddling on the floor. She spun to a stop in front of him, her deep sanguine cloak rustling softly. She stooped to lift his chin so she could look in his eyes. "You are mine. Soon you shall be grateful for it."

Shaking uncontrollably, Stork squawked in alarm and leapt to his feet. "Never!" The helmsman moved to dash to the door, but instead his eye caught on a glittering emerald crystal held in the Cyclonian ruler's hand, rooting him to the spot.

"Ah, but now that you're snared by my hypnocrystal, you have no choice." A calculating, eager smile curved the crystal mage's lips. "You will obey me."

Dark Ace turned to study the book titles on the shelf behind him as Master Cyclonis lightly traced her fingers over her captive's shoulder. His own smirk matched his master's as she forced the pilot to her will. He delighted in her pleasure, but he looked away to avoid being hypnotized himself.

"Enough. Kneel." Cyclonis held up her hand a moment later. The green-skinned helmsman dropped to his knees on the elaborate Cyclonian mosaic set into the floor. The dark empress picked up a collar and chain sitting on her desk, but paused when the Storm Hawk's pale yellow eyes flickered, twitching. Shaking his head, he threw off the enthrallment and skittered to his feet.

"I'd _prefer_ the vipers," Stork muttered, cringing from Cyclonis' hungry expression – not unlike that of the creature in the borrow he and Aerrow had waited out the hurricane in. His left eye twitched and he ducked his head, hiding behind the fine black curtain of his hair. It was unnerving how easily the Cyclonian empress usurped his agency and stripped away his free will. He shuddered at the memory.

Trembling, the carrier pilot dragged in a ragged breath and backed away from the crystal mage. His heart hammered so painfully that he was sure it would push right through his ribcage. At least Cyclonis hadn't forced him for long. Luckily – the higher the intelligence, the quicker a person could throw off the effects. Stork slipped another step back, letting out a startled squeak when his back pressed against her heavy marble desk. He clutched at the table's edge, wheezing in panic. That's why Finn had to keep upping the dosage on Junko to keep the Wallop hypnotized into thinking that he was the Masked Masher. 'Though come to think of it, Junko certainly didn't like it either after he woke up. I'm definitely going to talk to Piper about never using a hypnocrystal on a friend again . . . if we survive long enough for that discussion.'

"Oh well. After all, having you hypnotized isn't really what I wanted. Where's the fun in that?" Cyclonis slipped the emerald stone back into her sleeve, a cruel smile twisting her lips. Her words took on an eerie, echoing quality. "I want you broken."

Horrified, Stork reached a tremoring hand behind him, frantically searching for one of the crystals from the bowl on her desk. Instead, his questing fingers brushed against the small astronomical globe. He curled his fingers around it and, with a yell, flung it at her. Cyclonis sidestepped the heavy, metal globe, and Stork dashed past Dark Ace, heading toward the door.

"Not this time!" Indigo eyes flashing in annoyance, Master Cyclonis plucked an aubergine stone from her cloak. A crackling, red and purple lightning-like bolt snapped from the crystal, smashing into the rebellious Storm Hawk and pinning him high on the wall. "You freed your squadron and escaped my lathestone, but that was your last mistake. It's too bad that once lathed, a mind cannot be turned that way again." The crystal mage lips pulled into a frown. "But then again, that is why the effects are permanent . . . it cannot be re-lathed into its original state." Cyclonis paused, studying the terrified Merb through narrowed eyes.

"Well, we'll just try something else. I did promise, after all." The Cyclonian empress cut off the crystal power holding the Storm Hawk aloft. Stork fell, left prostrated at Master Cyclonis' feet, his breath knocked from his lungs. She tucked the stone away. "Acknowledge your master."

"In. Your. Dreams." Shaking violently, Stork scrambled back to his feet and sprinted for the door – again. "No, on second thought, not even there."

"Get back here!" Abruptly stepping forward, Dark Ace grabbed the fleeing Merb and dragged him back in the room. He roughly shoved Stork against the desk and wrenched his arms behind his back. Chaining the pilot's wrists, Dark Ace snapped the spiked collar around his neck and gave the chain a sharp yank, forcing the Storm Hawk to his knees. With a smirk, the crimson-eyed warrior locked the chain to Master Cyclonis' desk by her throne. "No more running away for you."

"No-no-no-no-no . . .!" Whimpering, Stork struggled to rise, but the chain was short enough that he could not stand. He jerked away as Master Cyclonis approached, strangling himself on the chained collar around his neck, his eyes bugging out in terror.

"I've been reviewing Grandmother's file on you, Stork. We should pick up where she left off, don't you think?" A cruel sneer twisted the crystal witch's face as she plucked the interlocked crystal from the bowl on her desk. The cold, deep blue stone flared as she carefully augmented her pet's chains. She would not risk the pilot slipping from her grasp again.

Giving his 'little sister' time alone with her new toy, Dark Ace bowed a salute to Master Cyclonis and, laughing, turned to leave. He would find Aerrow while Cyclonis was occupied. A smirk quirked his lips at Stork's sudden, agonized scream. Still chuckling, he left, closing the door behind him and locked it, sealing the Merb's screams in the room with the Storm Hawk and their master.

* * *

><p>"Evening again. How many does that make?" Piper heaved a sigh. "More than I care to count." With effort, the Storm Hawk tore her eyes away from the shimmering crystals laying temptingly on the low workbench and slipped the last of the crumpled papers in order. "Good thing they were numbered." The brightly colored crystals and stones caught the corner of her eye, snagging her attention – again. After Snipe locked her in the old Cyclonian library, she had eagerly and carefully gone through the books and crystals left for her. She stole a glance at Master Cyclonis' bizarre, multi-armed crystal amalgamation machine. Experimenting with new crystal combinations had been really fun.<p>

"Stop it, Piper! You don't need to borrow that kind of trouble," Piper chided herself. Of course there was nothing useful to help her escape – even though she had eagerly spent the last several days – as well as some nights – _and_ the better part of today pouring through the thick tomes on the shelves. "Even so, the knowledge is addictive." It had taken her longer than she cared to admit to tear herself away from the books and crystals to even look at the papers that she had swiped from Master Cyclonis' aide. Biting her lip, the Storm Hawk shifted uncomfortably on the carpeted floor, turning her back to the temptation and leaning against the bookshelf. The dark-skinned girl yanked her eyes down to the papers she had just put in order.

"Huh? How can that be? We've only been Storm Hawks for two years, not a decade. This report is _years_ old!" Piper exclaimed in surprise. The crystal specialist studied a small photo in the corner. "But that certainly looks like it could be Stork." The old papers – embossed with a watermark of the Cyclonian empire – detailed the time Stork grew up in the labor camp on Terra Merbia.

"Oh Stork, . . . you never said anything." With a start, the dark-skinned girl realized that she never knew that Stork grew up as a slave. She pursed her lips, wondering what else she didn't know about their helmsman.

"As Sky Knight Falcon's son, we determined . . .." Piper read, quickly becoming enthralled, then horrified, in the papers. Her belly crawled at the reports – cold and impersonal – describing the forced labor, the whips and conditioning, . . . and the experiments that ultimately broke beyond repair the power within that defined a Sky Knight. The crystal mage choked back her bile at what was done – purposefully – to their pilot even as a young child.

'Stork lied to me about the scars on his back.' A strangled, half-hysterical laugh clawed at Piper's throat – and back when the Storm Hawks had been framed to become Atmos' Most Wanted, Finn had been all upset that Stork had a higher bounty on his head than the sharpshooter did! Apparently even back then, someone knew that Stork was the greater threat – maybe Cyclonis herself had set the bounty! The pilot's skills, as well as his paranoia, night terrors and scars suddenly made sense.

"Oh Stork, do you even know who you are . . .?" Piper trailed off, then corrected herself, "who you _were_ before the Cyclonian empresses dug their crystal claws into you?" Her breath hitched in her throat and Piper wiped away a stray tear. The horrific revelation was almost past comprehension. "What a terrible burden some secrets are. What do I _do_ with this?"

The door to the library abruptly flew open with a loud _crash_, making Piper jump. The Storm Hawks' crystal mage guiltily looked up, wiping the tears from her face. The thought that she ought to hide Stork's file flitted across her mind, but before she could act, Aerrow and Radarr stormed into the room, ready for battle.

"Piper! I found you!" Aerrow exclaimed, pleased that he finally located one of his missing squad members. He clicked off the lightning charge on his hand-blade and tucked it away. Radarr, looking peeved that they really didn't need to burst in, scrambled up to sit on Aerrow's shoulder. A thousand-watt smile lit Aerrow's face, only to falter when his eye caught on the bright sheen of tears in Piper's amber eyes. "Piper?" Quickly and quietly, he stepped over to the dark-skinned girl and, placing Stork's survival kit on the floor, knelt by her side. He placed his good hand comfortingly on her shoulder. "Piper, are you hurt?"

"No." Relief flooded through Piper at the sight of her Sky Knight. She still trembled with her recent discoveries. The crystal mage threw her arms around Aerrow's neck, catching Radarr also in her hug. "Just very alone." 'And very tempted.' The struggle between becoming more like Master Cyclonis or refusing knowledge that could help the Storm Hawks had been all too wearing. She felt sick that she had ever even looked at Cyclonis' gifts of knowledge, knowing what the Cyclonian empress did with it to her own teammate. "But what about you? You were injured." The crystal specialist paused, taking in the coaster casings welded around Aerrow's chest. A grin flicked at the corners of her mouth. "'The Perfect Storm _Hawk_' . . . Aerrow."

"Finn wrote that." Aerrow laughed, running his left hand through his red hair. "Dark Ace wasn't too impressed."

"You let _Finn_ get close to you with a welding torch?" Piper asked incredulously. She smiled, shaking her head at Aerrow. Perhaps the Sky Knight had bumped his head. "That's not smart. Where is he?"

"Uh no, . . . Stork welded it. Finn just did my paint job." Aerrow's jovial grin flickered. "Finn got captured. He sacrificed himself so Stork and I could escape the Cyclonians."

"And Stork is . . ?"

The mention of the Merb helmsman sobered them both. In reply, Aerrow stared into Piper's solemn gaze and merely shook his head.

Piper understood the silent gesture. Not dead serious, but pretty darn close. With instinctive understanding, Piper knew that Stork had been recaptured. They sat for a moment, then Aerrow cocked his head toward the crinkled papers sitting in Piper's lap and raised his eyebrows.

This time it was Piper's turn to sadly shake her head. She may not know what to do with the information in Stork's file, but Aerrow would. She determined to go over the papers with the Sky Knight – later, once they were out of danger. Slowly, she gathered up the file and carefully folded the papers and slipped them back in her shirt.

Aerrow sighed, acknowledging Piper's decision to keep the Cyclonian papers for later. He sat for a moment longer, then finally broke her thoughtful silence. "We need to rescue them. What about Junko?"

"I haven't seen him since we watched the _Condor_ go down." Piper wrapped her arms around herself in a self-commiserating hug. The memory of the plummeting carrier ship unnerved her. Even if they rescued the others, they wouldn't be able to leave the terra without a ship. And without the _Condor_, their helmsman – their poor, broken Sky Knight – might never recover enough to even function again.

"We'd better get going." Aerrow's somber voice cut through her musings. "We have to get out of the labor compound before the nighttime security system goes up." The track-beasts that the Talons let loose after dark simply tore anything out wandering around to shreds. That and the Talon patrols on high alert made being in within the containment wall after nightfall far more dangerous than entering it during broad daylight. The Sky Knight pushed himself to his feet and extended a hand to help Piper rise.

After abandoning Stork to Dark Ace and escaping back into the wilds, it had taken Aerrow and Radarr the rest of the day to successfully evade their Talon pursuers – and it was only the onslaught of the resuming storm that had discouraged pursuit. That nightfall, he and his copilot had spent a cold and lonely night curled up in the muddy asper-viper burrow that he and Stork had waited out the hurricane in, only to spend the entire next day trying to sneak into the Cyclonian compound where his enemies had known he would be coming.

Aerrow plucked up the survival pack and slung it over his good shoulder. "We can't stay in the compound at night; if the track-beasts get our scent, we're done for – we'll come back for the others as soon as the nighttime security system goes down."

"Then we'd better get going." Piper pointedly left Master Cyclonis' crystals on the workbench. There was nothing really useful anyway and, more importantly, she didn't want to touch the evil gift.

"Oh, just one last thing." Piper quickly rearranged the crystals on the counter to form a frowny-face with its tongue sticking out. Then she sneaked out with Aerrow and Radarr.

* * *

><p>AN:

Yes, Dark Ace does apparently have a hydraulic accentuator (yup, that is a real word) built into the armor on his left arm. It can be seen in any shot containing Dark Ace.

All my wonderful readers - please take the time to drop me a review and share your thoughts!

Also - I made sure to get this posted a little earlier than normal, as I won't have computer access for a short while - which means no new chapter next week. So until then . . . have fun!


	9. Chapter 9

Storm Hawks:

"**Truth or Suicide"**

(This story takes place after episode (36 – 210) "Scouts Honor"

and after my fanfic "Something Like That")

Rated T.

Disclaimer: Storm Hawks is a Nerd Corps Entertainment, Inc. Original Production.

**When nightmares come true and the present meets the past, the only way out . . . is through. It's Truth or Suicide.**

**Stork centric, but all involved. While it is not required to read my last fic "Something Like That" – this story does reference events from that title.**

* * *

><p>"King's Castle Burger?" Seeing Aerrow's signal, Piper slipped around the corner after her Sky Knight, flattening her back against the metal wall. The Talons were using the fast food joint as a commissary. The Storm Hawks had come across many of the warp-stolen landmarks in their search for their teammates. Ducking back into the Cyclonian headquarters, they dashed around the bend and sprinted down the corridor. The hall ended in a T, and panting, Piper placed a hand on the wall and glanced up and down the intersection. "Are you sure we haven't checked this corridor already? They all look the same."<p>

"Pretty sure, but since the enslaved Merbs are never allowed in here, Herron couldn't give us a layout," Aerrow murmured in reply. They had spent far too long searching for their missing teammates, and he was getting frantic. His eyes narrowed at the faint echo of a track-beast's snuffling from behind them. Aerrow sniffed carefully at his own arm. He jerked back with a gasp, nearly choking. Yep, still working. The Sky Knight didn't know if the mephitic – thing – from Stork's survival kit was meant to be a weapon or their dinner, but its stench effectively masked their scent. He placed his good hand on Piper's arm. "Let's try this way." Randomly choosing a direction, the squadron leader led the crystal specialist down the hall, then quickly turned and dashed down one of the smaller side corridors branching from the main one. "Shh. Don't move!"

"That was close!" Piper exclaimed quietly once the track-beast and its handler had passed. She paused. "Aerrow, wait a moment. You hear that? It sounds like Finn moaning, . . . and he sounds in pain." The dark-skinned girl jerked her head to the side and indicated a nearby door, her eyes wide with worry.

"Not for long." Aerrow's heart skipped a beat when he heard the groans coming from the other side of the heavy – and locked – portal. The things he'd seen and heard in the compound made him fear for his wingman. "Stand back." Aerrow plucked Radarr from his shoulder and gently set his small copilot down. Drawing his leg back, the Sky Knight kicked the door, snapping the locking mechanism and allowing the portal to swish open.

* * *

><p>Lying on the settee, Finn groaned and wiggled the toes of one of his propped up feet. The pretty Talon girl shifted her grip and walked her thumbs up the pad of his foot. Moaning again, the Storm Hawk marksman startled at a loud bang from the door. A wide grin split his face at the sight of his three teammates charging into the room and assuming battle positions.<p>

"Finn! You'd better have a good explanation for this!" Piper's jaw dropped at the sight of the Storm Hawks' sharpshooter and she briskly shouldered past Aerrow and thrust her fists to her hips. "What in the atmos are you doing? We thought you were being tortured!"

"If by tortured you mean pampered, then sure." Still grinning, Finn pulled his feet back and sat up. The spiky-haired marksman patted the couch next to him. "Have a seat."

"Why you . . .! How can . . .! I don't . . .!" Piper stammered disjointedly, her cheeks flushing in anger. "What have you been doing!" The crystal specialist stalked over to the marksman and poked a finger at his chest. "We've been worried sick looking for you! And you've been wasting time consorting with the enemy getting . . . foot massages!"

"Nu uhhhh!" Finn placed one hand over his heart, disbelief and indignation warring on his features. How could his teammates even _think_ that he'd spent his entire captivity in foot rubs? "I've also been using the hot tub, getting back massages, doing a little dancing, and even some air guitar!"

"Now Piper, just calm down." At Piper's snort of disgust, Aerrow quickly stepped forward to forestall the brewing argument between his squad members. "We can deal with Finn once we get out of here."

"You wound me!" Finn turned to address his leader and reached into his pocket. "That's not _all_. You see, this lovely little lady is under orders to fulfill my every whim. Which includes this . . .." The blond sharpshooter dangled a collection of keys to a full set of skyrides that he acquired for the team. "As soon as we're ready to announce our presence and go on the attack, . . . we're set!" Finn shot his stunned leader a cocky grin and flicked out his finger-pistols. "Chicka-cha! I even got a ride for Stork, since the _Condor_ is at the bottom of the lake. Uh," Finn paused, his bright blue eyes flicking between Piper and Aerrow, almost as if expecting the two of them to have the helmsman stuffed in their pockets. "Where is Stork anyway?"

Aerrow dropped his gaze and placed a hand on Piper's arm when the crystal mage sniffled at the mention of the pilot. Finn looked confused at the display of tears, but Aerrow could sense the dark-skinned girl's distress.

"Stork distracted Dark Ace so I could escape." Aerrow took a deep breath. The whole story would have to wait until later. "The Cyclonians have him."

"Not cool." Deflating, Finn heaved a heavy sigh and, pushing the pretty Talon girl away, slipped on his boots. He wasn't too worried about Junko. His best friend was a Wallop that very little could harm, but Stork . . .. "Let's go."

* * *

><p>"Aw, man! This really sinks." The four of them had barely managed to sneak out of the Cyclonian base and back into Terra Merbia's wilds before complete darkness fell. As it was, they very nearly became snack food for the vicious track-beasts. The spiky-haired blonde favored their campsite with a look of revulsion. It was the same viper lair that Aerrow had been staying in since his own escape. The Talons were hunting for them further abroad, having already searched this area and discounted it as nothing other than an apex predator den. "Dudes, couldn't you have waited to rescue me until morning? At least then I could have spent the night in comfort."<p>

"Stop it, Finn." Piper shot the marksman a sour look and scooted closer to Aerrow, trying to stay warm. Radarr crawled into her lap. He put a hand on her growling stomach. While Cyclonis' minions had kept her well-fed, out here they had little to eat except what looked suspiciously like Merb cabbage and some now-squished fleshy pods in the odd survival pack that Aerrow carried – they'd opted for the pods. The Merb resistance helped where they could, but the slaves really had very little to offer. The fugitive Storm Hawks were relying heavily on what Stork foraged before his capture. "It could be worse."

"Hmph." Finn rolled his eyes, grumbling. "Stork picked better campsites than this."

* * *

><p>The early morning sunlight streamed through the heavily-reinforced window, lining the variegations in the glass in shimmering rainbow and bathing Master Cyclonis' office in liquid fire.<p>

'Dawn again. It's been a rough few nights.' Stork didn't look up to see the morning light, but he felt its warmth on his back. 'Two, at least, before . . . no wait, three . . .. And then another . . ..' The captive Merb sighed. How many days and nights had he been Cyclonis'? Unable to reach the answer, Stork gave up on the simple calculation. Instead, the carrier pilot turned his thoughts to Aerrow.

A shroud of grey settled over his mind. Aerrow struggled with the decision to abandon him to the Dark Ace's mercy when Stork ordered the Sky Knight to go. The carrier pilot saw that plainly in his face. Even in the miasma of his despair, Stork couldn't deny it. And yet, had Aerrow even an inkling of what Cyclonis would do to him? If he had, would that have even made a difference?

Master Cyclonis dropped a hand to her pet's back, running her fingers along the wide tear in his uniform and idly tracing the natural spots dappling his shoulders. She slipped her fingers beneath his spiked collar to caress his neck. A soft, low sigh escaped the kneeling Merb's lips. His shoulders were hunched and his head bowed. His fine black hair across his face, Stork knelt at the foot of Master Cyclonis' throne-like chair, collared, leashed, – and defeated.

'How many times . . .? always one betrayal after another. First with the failed alliance, then as just a kid to the old empress' experimentation. The sabotaged traps. The thwarted scavenging exhibitions.' Stork's thoughts mired and this calculation slipped away as well. He'd hoped that the tip-off that landed him in the wastelands would have ended his abominable bad luck in betrayed trusts. But even the Storm Hawks sold his ship out from under him! The lies of his despondency kept Stork from acknowledging the team's efforts in getting her back. In all his time as a Storm Hawk, only the _Condor_ never let him down – but now, even she was gone. While here, only the Masters Cyclonis, the elder as well as the younger, had ever treated Stork consistently – and now even that was changing.

The empress' fingers slid up his neck to twine through his hair. No longer trembling, the captive didn't flinch from his master's touch, instead allowing his eyes to slide half-closed. His hands – no longer chained – hung limply at his sides.

"I have the reports, Master Cyclonis." The sound of the door swishing open was followed by Dark Ace's deep voice. "Of course, you know of the helmsman." A pause, then laughter. "Wait until Aerrow sees this! His precious little Storm Hawk with his wings clipped!" Amusement rode in the undercurrent of the Cyclonian commander's tone, tinted with disgust – as well as a touch of jealousy – at how subservient the chained Storm Hawk was under his master's touch. The crimson-eyed warrior's words quieted so that Cyclonis could pretend not to hear if she so chose. "I am proud of you, little sister."

Despair pressed heavily on his chest and Stork didn't even bother raising his dull gaze when the Dark Ace laughed again at his master's _plaything_.

"And what of the other Storm Hawks?" Disentangling her fingers from his hair, Cyclonis began stroking Stork's ears and fondling the small silver rings in his ear. "We can't have them missing out. Isn't that right, my pet?"

"Ravess reports that the Wallop is coming along nicely. But we both know how unstable the other races are. Apparently even the Sky Knight had no trouble turning him into his strongman." Dark Ace's voice hardened. Now for the bad news. "However, both the crystal mage and the marksman are missing. I suspect only Aerrow could have freed them."

Despondency filled his lungs, threatening to drown him. The news of the Storm Hawks' escape failed to lift the helmsman's spirits. Junko was becoming a Talon, as he had at the first. And Aerrow . . . he saved the others, but not him.

"That is unacceptable. The Storm Hawks are threatening my plans. I need Terra Bounteous beholden to Cyclonia. I expect better from you, my Dark Ace." Master Cyclonis' voice sharpened and her fingers tightened ever so slightly through the rings in Stork's ear. "Pull every Talon that you must, but find the Storm Hawks!"

"Yes, Master Cyclonis." Dark Ace grunted his assent and Stork could hear him step from the room.

'Piper, Finn, Radarr and Aerrow . . . his original team.' A slight crease formed between Stork's brows. Dejected, the Merb pilot realized that he _did_ trust the Storm Hawks and their Sky Knight to act in certain, predictable manners. 'Even Junko.' Aerrow had abandoned him much as he had Piper to a killer storm back when a disguised Cyclonis infiltrated the Storm Hawks. Master Cyclonis' fingers loosened from the rings and settled back into caressing his ears, pulling a small moan of despair from his throat.

"Your . . . _friends_ . . . are proving quite problematic, Stork," Cyclonis murmured softly and pursed her lips. "The Sky Knight in particular seems intent on _messing things up_." Once again alone with her pet, the dark empress leaned down so her face was close to his. "Dark Ace will capture them soon enough." She gently lifted Stork's chin, making his hair fall away from his eyes, so she could look into his face. Soon she needn't even bother with the chain anymore – though she would keep the spiked collar. She rather liked the look on him. "But don't worry if he fails." A smirk quirked the corner of her mouth and Master Cyclonis kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Perhaps you can help hunt Aerrow down. Won't that be fun?"

Steadily looking up into her deep indigo eyes, Stork leaned into her hand ever so slightly. The ghost of an evil smile twitched on his lips.

The Storm Hawks could trust him to act according to type as well.


	10. Chapter 10

Storm Hawks:

"**Truth or Suicide"**

(This story takes place after episode (36 – 210) "Scouts Honor"

and after my fanfic "Something Like That")

Rated T.

Disclaimer: Storm Hawks is a Nerd Corps Entertainment, Inc. Original Production.

**When nightmares come true and the present meets the past, the only way out . . . is through. It's Truth or Suicide.**

**Stork centric, but all involved. While it is not required to read my last fic "Something Like That" – this story does reference events from that title.**

* * *

><p>"You guys are gonna be so glad that you let me cook." Junko shoved the pot containing the sky squid and cloud krill gumbo to the back burner and happily plucked up another pan, dropping into it a live – well, even the Wallop didn't know what the native Merbian critter was, but it sure looked tasty. The thing hooked its barbed stingers over the edge of the pot, trying to crawl back out. Snatching up a wooden spoon, Junko pried the suckers off the side of the pan and smacked it until it curled back into the pot. He hastily stuffed the lid on it before supper could escape. "Almost done!" Junko snagged a plate and scooped out a large serving from a nearby dish that he'd already prepared. "Here you go! By the time you're done with the appetizer, the rest of dinner will be ready."<p>

"What is _that_?" Snipe muttered in barely suppressed revulsion, and gave a massive shudder. The bruiser of a Cyclonian poked at the greenish lumps on his plate, jumping back when a pair of eye stalks popped out of the dish.

"Potato salad."

"_That's_ supposed to be _potato salad_? Isn't it supposed to be vegetarian? or at least dead first?" Snipe clutched his arm across his rebelling stomach and glanced about the mess hall, looking for an escape. "I have a stomachache."

"You are going to sit there, little brother. And you _are_ going to enjoy every morsel!" Ravess turned a critical eye on to her brother. He really did look ill. "We have to convince the Wallop that Cyclonia needs and values his efforts so that he will want to join us." The musical perfectionist plastered a bright, false smile to her face, watching as the Storm Hawks' flight engineer plunged a clawed spoon into a pot and scooped out a mass of glistening, inch long, grey-green 'pasta' onto another plate. Several of the mud-eels slithered over the edge and plopped on the floor. She jumped as Snipe suddenly stood, upsetting the table and dashed from the mess hall with the excuse that he needed to go lie down.

Junko cut some oozing slices of gloopy-fruit and arranged them artfully to garnish the dish – and to stick the eels in place. He popped a slice of the nasty-smelling fruit into his mouth, chewing with obvious relish.

"Well, I suppose I can always bully the Talon shock troops into enjoying dinner. I'll just have to order the Wayside diner to close for a few days . . . they ought to be hungry enough by then to eat Wallop cooking." None of the troops had entered the mess hall since Junko became the chef. Ravess would like nothing more than to follow her little brother's example, but Master Cyclonis had assigned her to follow the Storm Hawk around and make sure that he didn't get into mischief.

While the Wallop didn't seem to be trying to escape – nor did he appear to be searching for his companions – he had left a wide swath of destruction and mayhem in his wake. The naive Wallop merely seemed excited to 'experience' as much of being a Talon as possible – unfortunately with catastrophic results. "The crystal overload in the refinery. The weapons malfunction in the armory. The entire stockpile of goods in the warehouse. The . . .." A suspicious frown sneaked onto Ravess' face. It was almost as if the Wallop was sabotaging them from the inside, but no . . .. Wallops weren't noted for their intelligence – or their subtlety.

"What this really needs is a dash of Skyside Shanty's signature extra potent quadruple malt vinegar, but since we don't have any, I added some Merbian extra strength pan-o-cide that I found under the sink," Junko proclaimed and merrily plunked the truly revolting concoction in front of the Cyclonian commander. The mud-eels writhed in the shimmering goo of the gloopy-fruit. It looked stomach turning and smelled even worse. The Wallop leaned in close the the vile violinist. "It's supposed to be good for getting rid of mind-worms," he confided conspiratorially. The Wallop's storm-grey eyes twinkled with barely suppressed merriment. He was, perhaps, enjoying tormenting the Cyclonians a little too much. He'd cooked enough meals for his own teammates that he knew what humans found palatable – and what they didn't. The traditional Wallop cooking, though, certainly had its uses. Though he did cook Wallop-style on the _Condor_ on occasion to give them a taste of another culture, he usually modified the recipes for his teammates. He really did enjoy cooking. "Bon appetit!"

"I . . . urp!" Ravess let the thought drop as the stench turned her stomach, threatening to turn it inside out. She slapped her fingers over her lips and ran from the room.

"I'll just save this for you for later, then!" Junko laughed brightly. He waited until he was sure the Cyclonian was gone, then stooped and opened a small cupboard beneath the counter.

"Come on out, guys." He extended a hand and helped first Piper, then Aerrow and Radarr and finally Finn from the cabinet. His teammates had found him, barging through the door in full battle mode just in time for the evening meal – and he barely managed to hide them before his 'babysitters' saw them. "It's all clear."

"What a relief." Stretching his neck to loosen the kinks from his muscles, Aerrow clapped the Wallop on the back. "Good job, Junko." The Sky Knight looked over his near-complete squadron. They were almost all together again, in good physical shape, his shoulder being the notable exception – but Piper seemed to agree with Stork's diagnosis and refused to release him from his casing cast – and in high spirits. "We're not doing too bad."

"Uh, Aerrow?" The mirth faded from Junko's eyes. _They_ might not be doing too bad, but . . .. He grasped the Sky Knight's arm and caught his gaze with his own. "I saw Stork the other day. Master Cyclonis had him on a chain lead. I overheard Snipe and Ravess say that she always keeps him with her, even in her office." Junko hesitated. That wasn't the worst of what he heard – or of what he saw. Deep concern etched the Wallop's face. "He looked straight at me, but I don't think he even recognized me."

Piper brought a fist to her lips to stifle a sob, and a low growl vibrated through Radarr's throat. Even the normally carefree Finn looked grim.

"Don't worry guys. We'll get him." Aerrow longed to barge straight in, but he knew he had to get his team out of the compound or the vicious track-beasts would have them. They would be no good to anyone if they got themselves recaptured. The Sky Knight briefly wondered if Dark Ace had succeeded in capturing him if he'd have received the 'hard' treatment like Stork, or the 'soft' like the others – but he wasn't liking the conclusions he drew. At least now he knew where to find his Merb friend. His mouth locked into a determined grimace and the Sky Knight hefted his helmsman's emergency survival kit over his good shoulder. He stepped from the room, leading his squad back into the Merbian night. First thing tomorrow they would spring Stork, and then they'd finish this.

* * *

><p>"That pit-viper burrow is getting cramped. Fortunately, we won't have to spend another night there." Aerrow paused in his thoughts as Piper tried to force the reinforced lock on Master Cyclonis' office and grunted in irritation. The slender rod from Stork's survival kit flexed under the strain, then snapped. "Argh!" Frustrated, she threw the rod to the floor.<p>

"Allow me, guys." Eyeing his leader with amusement, Junko tapped the red-haired Sky Knight on the shoulder and stepped forward. He smashed his fists together, but deflated when they only gave off a small pop and fizzled out – he'd forgotten that Ravess had fried Aunt Eunice's knucklebusters. Maybe once they freed Stork, the helmsman would be able to fix them. Shaking away the thought, the thickly-built Wallop still cocked his arm back and punched the door. "Rrrrrrah!" Hairline cracks crazed the surface; the portal buckled under the impact, tearing clean from its frame and blasting across Master Cyclonis' office to crater against a bookshelf. The shelf teetered once, then the entire thing cascaded to the floor with a reverberating crash, spilling books everywhere. "Oops. Sorry!"

"Stork! We're here!" Aerrow shouted and jumped into the room, followed by his squadron, a lightning blade clutched in his good hand. "We'll have you out of . . ?" Confused, the Storm Hawk flicked off the weapon's charge and sheathed it.

"Rrrit?" Behind Aerrow, Radarr's stance wilted. His ears drooped and he thrust an indignant finger the empty room before him. Then the small, lemur-like Storm Hawk straightened, small fists planted on his hips. "Grrrr." They'd charged in, battle ready, for _all_ of their teammates and _none_ of them needed saving by force – and Stork wasn't even _here_ at all! The rest of the Storm Hawks eased out of their combat stances.

"Dudes! Looky what I found!" Laughing, Finn bent close over the marble desk in front of the dark throne. "Bad Kitty!" Still laughing, Finn grinned at Master Cyclonis sitting on the floor, chained to her own desk. "It's about time someone kept you on a short leash."

The Storm Hawks stared, slack-jawed in unabashed shock. Though the spiked, black leather collar and silvery chain were very appropriate for the dark empress, it was obvious that they were not worn as a fashion statement. Aerrow choked on the sick lump in his throat. Before, the young Sky Knight would have joined Finn in his laughter – he _wanted_ to find humor in the girl-playing-tyrant being trapped in her own machinations, but he couldn't. Not now. His stomach crawled at the thought of his helmsman in those same chains.

"He will not get away with this . . . none of you will escape me!" Master Cyclonis snarled, tugging at the collar around her throat and the short chain that kept her bowed down to her own throne. Not only had her Storm Hawk pet emptied her desk, taking the bowl of crystals from it, but also the shielding crystal that she wore around her neck – as well as frisking her for those hidden about her person. Her deep indigo eyes narrowed in poorly-masked fury. Kept captive by her own crystal augmented chains! Her pet would pay dearly for her humiliation! "Release me, Sky Knight!"

"No, . . . I don't think so, _Master_ Cyclonis." Pursing his lips, Aerrow frowned. While he was relieved that Stork escaped, worry still slithered through the Sky Knight's belly. If Stork was up to escaping, and even trapping his captor in the process, the damage of his captivity was hopefully not too drastic. But where had Stork gone? If they were lucky, he went to Herron of the Merb resistance. But if his mental state had continued to deteriorate . . .. Wrapped in his own concerns, Aerrow was only minimally aware of Piper's anger at the 'witch' for her 'pro-slavery' notions and 'barbaric' treatment of others, and how 'it served her right' that she got a 'taste of her own medicine.'

Shaking his head, Aerrow led his slightly less-than-whole squadron from the room. The would-be rescuers simply left Cyclonis chained there until they could deal with the tyrant properly. They had to escape Terra Merbia first.

"Don't worry, Cyclonis. We'll be back to take you to stand trial for your war crimes," Aerrow called over his shoulder and turned to leave.

"You have no right! Who do you think you are? You will regret this, Storm Hawks!" Master Cyclonis screamed after the retreating Sky Knight.

Only silence answered her call.

* * *

><p>Growling, the dark empress clenched a fist. Did so few people really come by her office? After what seemed like hours, a soft sound echoed from the open doorway and she abruptly stood as far as she could on her short leash.<p>

"Master." Dark Ace hastened to Cyclonis' side. The crimson-eyed warrior raised his sword and, kneeling, attempted to thrust it through the augmented chain. When, even after he slapped a vorpal stone into his sword's hilt, the spiked collar also failed to give way to his blade, the Dark Ace turned his aggravation to the desk leg where the chain was anchored. He deactivated and sheathed his weapon, extending a hand to help his master rise. Keeping his eyes dutifully off the spiked collar and short length of chain that the young empress still wore out of necessity, Dark Ace finally gave the report that he originally came in to deliver. The Storm Hawks were free and mounting an attack. "The battle has begun."

"Then we go and fight."

* * *

><p>AN:

The vorpal stone is derived from _Jabberwocky_ by Lewis Carroll.


	11. Chapter 11

Storm Hawks:

"**Truth or Suicide"**

(This story takes place after episode (36 – 210) "Scouts Honor"

and after my fanfic "Something Like That")

Rated T.

Disclaimer: Storm Hawks is a Nerd Corps Entertainment, Inc. Original Production.

**When nightmares come true and the present meets the past, the only way out . . . is through. It's Truth or Suicide.**

**Stork centric, but all involved. While it is not required to read my last fic "Something Like That" – this story does reference events from that title.**

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><p>Aerrow sprinted through the Cyclonian auxiliary hangar bay, leading his incomplete squadron and weaving through the rows of factory-ready skyrides. Slowing, he plucked Radarr from his shoulder and set his small copilot on the ground. "Radarr, I need you to run and keep in contact with Herron so the Merbian resistance can get the enslaved Merbs organized." The lemur-like creature saluted, chittering, and dashed off. His eyes lingered only briefly after Radarr, then the Storm Hawk leader took off running again.<p>

"Aerrow!"

The Sky Knight raised a hand in reply to Finn's shout, and caught the skimmer key that his wingman tossed to him. Without slowing a beat, the squadron leader leapt onto the Switchblade Elite, thrust the key into the ignition and blasted out of the hangar. A wry grin found its way onto the young Sky Knight's face. He'd fought enough battles against the Dark Ace to recognize that his new skyride was a high-end model just like the traitor's. Finn got them the finest available. Behind him, the Storm Hawks scrambled and hit the sky.

'Herron hasn't seen any sign of Stork. No one has,' Aerrow worried as he banked hard to avoid an incoming Talon formation and zoomed straight toward Master Cyclonis' warp crystal array. 'But with all the security that Dark Ace set up around the _Condor_, I'm not sure that I hope he went there.'

"Finn, keep the Talons off me!" An incoming shower of energy missiles blasted Aerrow's musings from his mind and he shouted to his wingman. Finn banked off to engage the enemy fighters and clear the way for his leader. Grunting his thanks, Aerrow zigzagged through the thick enemy fire, determined to avoid engaging any of the Talon skimmers trying slowing him down. "Can't let myself get distracted. Objective number one . . . take out Cyclonis' warp machine," Aerrow muttered beneath his breath.

The massive warp array rose up before him, set solidly upon a rocky plateau staging ground. The Storm Hawk leader's bright green eyes widened in shock. "Master Cyclonis must have started gathering warp crystals immediately after the destruction of her Storm Engine to have acquired this many!" Shaking the thought from his mind, Aerrow targeted the gigantic array's cooling system. Piper had warned him against hitting the warp crystals directly – that many crystals would generate a warp effect big enough to crumble and scatter the entire Terra Merbia throughout the atmos.

"Leaving the party so soon, boy? Such poor manners for a guest. And you really shouldn't play with other people's toys." Dark Ace's low voice cut through the chaos of battle and the whistle of wind. "Didn't your father teach you any better?" The Cyclonian commander rose to intercept the Sky Knight, sword drawn and teeth bared. "Oh, that's right. Lightning Strike fell by my hand when you were still in rompers. Like father like son, . . . this is going to be fun, Aerrow." His crimson eyes narrowed dangerously and Dark Ace fired a searing blast from his sword, forcing the Storm Hawk brat away from his master's warp crystal array. "I'm sure that Master Cyclonis will forgive me for your death, since I know that you are somehow responsible for her _plaything's_ escape!"

"Think again, Dark Ace," Aerrow growled, and looped around to engage the Cyclonian. "Stork escaped your demented master on his own." At the sight of the Cyclonian commander, all the horrible things he'd seen and heard since arriving at the slave camp jumbled into his mind in a great rush. An ugly burn smoldered in his gut. "You're one to talk, traitor. You betrayed your Sky Knight and your fellow Storm Hawks!" Aerrow's mind settled down into one horrible thought – it all came back to Dark Ace! The low burn in his gut burst into flame. He was MAD. The Storm Hawk leader looped closer to Dark Ace, drawing his lightning-blade in his left hand and whipping the glowing weapon across the crimson-eyed warrior's mocking smirk. "Didn't _your_ father teach you about loyalty?"

"What do the Storm Hawks know of loyalty? You _gave_ your helmsman to me at our last meeting!" Jerking back, Dark Ace cut the throttle on his own skimmer, allowing it to slip beneath Aerrow's ride, and launched himself into a backflip. The Storm Hawk's followup strike flashed harmlessly beneath him and the enemy commander landed solidly on Aerrow's starboard wing. "And in return, I saw the coward fleeing on Cyclonis' personal skyride."

"Stork is a far better Storm Hawk than you ever were!" Aerrow's lips twisted in anger and disgust at the Cyclonian's words. Stork was likely heading back to the _Condor_ and not deserting as Dark Ace intimated – he just hoped that his helmsman arrived with the carrier ship soon.

"Still hoping for his return? How little you know your own pilot . . . just as your father never knew me! Let me tell you about your little pet Merb. After a life lived in constant dread under your command, his new master offers him refuge . . . a security that _you _never gave him. Oh, he resisted at first, but not anymore. Master Cyclonis used her extraordinary gifts at crystal manipulation to cause Stork excruciating pain at her displeasure and . . . _relief_ . . . at her slightest touch. It was truly awe-inspiring to behold. Our dear master spent days experimenting on and breaking Stork to her touch." Dark Ace laughed at the doubt and rage warring on the young Sky Knight's features and he hopped off Aerrow's wing with a parting shot, landing back onto his own skimmer. He could see the roiling emotions tearing into the Storm Hawk's heart, unsettling him and keeping him unbalanced. Crimson eyes flashing in glee, Dark Ace looped a circle around the Sky Knight in an effort to blast him from the sky with his weapons as well as his words. "You really should ask your own little crystal witch to do the same for you . . .. Pity you won't live long enough to. And then your whole squadron can _properly_ experience Master Cyclonis' hospitality. They might actually prefer her care over yours. Master Cyclonis has never abandoned me."

"That's not true!" The raging air battle around them faded to insignificance as Dark Ace's taunts cut him to the core. Snarling, Aerrow fought to subdue the rage threatening to consume him. The anger was cankering his soul and with it, he was assailed by a new emotion – guilt. "You're lying."

They looped a helix around each other, swords clashing. A starburst of intercepted firepower from the swarming dogfights backlit the two best-enemies.

"Why lie? The truth cuts so much deeper." With an evil laugh, Dark Ace slipped his skimmer sideways and raised his blade, sheering Aerrow's skyride in half.

"Cyclonian truth is a subjective matter." Snagging his enemy's skimmer wing with his good hand, Aerrow swung from his plummeting ride and slammed down on Dark Ace's. The skimmer leveled with the impact, and Aerrow twisted to face his arch-enemy. "It enslaves instead of setting free!"

"And yet, Stork still fears you." Dark Ace dodged the attack, dropping his shoulder and knocking Aerrow flat on his back on the edge of the skimmer's wing. A vile smirk quirked the corner of his mouth and he leveled his sword at the fallen Sky Knight. "Beg for mercy."

"Whatever happened to 'this time, no mercy?'" Slowly shaking his head, Aerrow rolled to his feet. "Cyclonian _mercy_ is as flawed as its _truth_." Aerrow paused infinitesimally at the epiphany. New confidence straightened the young Sky Knight's stance as he abandoned the guilt and anger – much like he abandoned Stork in the first place. It was a _temporary_ necessity. "Fears will never stop us." Drawing a deep, cleansing breath, Aerrow closed his eyes and focused on summoning the power of his Sky Knight signature move.

Aerrow leaped upward, spinning his blade to twist the blue glowing strength welling from within into a spiral about him. Pulling his good arm back behind his shoulder, the young Sky Knight caught the forming hawk wings and, singled-handed, thrust it forward. The resulting bolt of blue lightning caught on his injured shoulder and branched out, striking at random while the second tendril, instead of forming a protective helix around the Knight with the first, rebounded on Aerrow, tearing at him and nearly throwing him from Dark Ace's Switchblade.

Gasping, Aerrow clutched at the skimmer wing and shakily pulled himself to his knees. Alarm coursed though his veins when he found that a tinge of scarlet flecked his lips. A slow panic at his broken Sky Knight ability squeezed at his heart. Truly afraid for the first time, Aerrow clenched his hand in a trembling fist.

"I've defeated more Sky Knights than anyone. I know what a broken ability looks like. And boy, . . . you are broken! How does it feel, Aerrow?" Dark Ace laughed, staring down at the Storm Hawk brat kneeling at his feet. "At least now Atmos' youngest Sky Knight shares something in common with his helmsman." The Cyclonian commander's words took on a harsh edge. "Let me show you how it's done!"

Snarling, Dark Ace slammed an amplifier crystal into the hilt of his dual-edged sword, tendrils of power coursing around his frame. He launched himself in a backflip, bringing his double-handed sword over his head and summoning a miasmic storm of electricity. With a laugh, Dark Ace released the bolt of crackling, violet energy and blasted the young Sky Knight from the skimmer wing.

'Now that . . . hurt!' Aerrow shook the away the vertigo and pain, eyes watering from the wind as he plummeted. With a start, he realized that with his shoulder and chest encased as it was, he could not deploy his glider wings.

"Aerrow!" Piper dived when she saw her leader fall. "Hold on. I've got you!" She reached out a hand to catch him, screaming in horror when Dark Ace rammed her from behind and Aerrow's fingers slipped from her own.

"Piper, don't . . .!" Aerrow's words were cut off as he abruptly bashed into the sloped spire of the stolen Sky Knight council building. Gritting his teeth against the sudden, reverberating flash of pain, Aerrow futilely grabbed at the steeple, slipping down its length. He jounced off the curved roof, and skidded down the second level tier before falling to crumple on the ground. A moan escaped the battered Sky Knight's lips. At least the coaster casing, stuffed with plush animals as it was, somewhat muted his fall. "Not exactly the heroic landing I was going for."

Groaning, Aerrow shakily pushed himself to his knees and Piper – leaping from her Talon Heli-blade Elite almost before it landed – rushed over to see if he was okay. Aerrow forced a smile for her. "Just thought I'd drop by."

"Aerrow, all joking aside, are you okay?" The Storm Hawk crystal mage dropped to her knees in front of her Sky Knight. "You fell a really long way!" A troubled frown touched her lips at the blatant fear shading Aerrow's emerald eyes. Piper could tell that he was jesting to keep the panic at bay. She put one hand on his arm, and the other on his cheek. "Aerrow, it's okay. I promise. I saw your signature move backlash on you, but don't worry. It's not permanent." Letting her hand drop from his face, Piper stood and pulled Aerrow to his feet. "Because your arm is so securely bound, it will heal fine. For now you just need to integrate the imbalance. Chalk up another point for Stork in not letting you use your shoulder!"

Instead of reassuring him as Piper intended, the mention of Stork increased the young Sky Knight's agitation. "Piper, the Dark Ace said that Stork and I now share . . . something . . . in common. But I don't . . .."

Piper put a finger to Aerrow's lips, shushing him. "Aerrow, listen to me. You will _never_ end up like Stork. Never!"

Aerrow stared at Piper. He usually knew what his crystal mage was thinking at any given moment, but not this time. The Sky Knight had to admit that he had no idea what the dark-skinned girl was talking about. "Piper, what . . .?"

"Hah, two for the price of one." Skidding to a stop on the broken cobblestones littering the area in front of the council building, Dark Ace swung off his skimmer. A vile smirk again caught at the corner of his mouth. "Master Cyclonis will be so pleased."

"No, Piper. I'll handle him." Aerrow pulled the dark-skinned girl behind him when the crystal specialist stepped forward to intercept Dark Ace. He pushed her toward her heli-blade. "I need you to go provide air cover for the Merbian resistance fighters."

"Play time is over, children. It's time to come in." Dark Ace activated his sword and slowly advanced.

"Who's playing?" Aerrow muttered grimly and eased the second lightning blade from his back and carefully joined it with the first hilt to hilt. With one hand, it was tricky. Grasping the double-ended weapon close to one blade, Aerrow braced the half-staff's shaft against his forearm and leapt at the crimson-eyed warrior to cover Piper's retreat.

"You shouldn't have sent your little sandpiper away. You're going to need all the help you can get, broken Sky Knight." Dark Ace barely managed to twist out of the way of the vicious thrust. He spun around, tracking the Storm Hawk squad leader and fired a scorching bolt from his sword.

Twirling the double-bladed lightning half-staff, Aerrow deflected the shot in a shower of sparks. Reversing his thrust, the young Sky Knight struck again. "Not so broken that I can't take care of you!"

Dark Ace leapt over his opponent, slashing at the Storm Hawk beneath him. A whiff of Aerrow's track-beast camouflage wafted up, gagging him. The Cyclonian commander landed with a grunt, nose wrinkling in disgust. "Though obviously you can't take care of yourself."

Ignoring the comment, Aerrow swung his half-staff in an arc, slicing the flickering blue edge across Dark Ace's chestplate. His opponent shifted his weight and, with a clang, Aerrow overbalanced. Laughing, Dark Ace returned the blow, and Aerrow barely managed to raise his weapon in time deflect the brutal strike. The young Sky Knight gritted his teeth. 'Okay, that wasn't so smooth. If . . . _when_ we get out of this I'm having everyone train with more than just their own weapon specialty.'

Aerrow spun around when the crimson-eyed warrior dodged behind him, eyes widening in shock when Dark Ace punched him squarely in the face. He fell to the ground, shaking his head to clear his swimming vision. Laying flat on his back, Aerrow pulled his eyes away from Dark Ace's cruel smirk, his gaze drawn to the aerial battle raging overhead. While he couldn't pinpoint his teammates, he could see the clusters of Talon fighters swarming them, like gnats in a horde of angry hornets. A worried frown pulled his lips.

'We could really use the _Condor_ right about now . . . and by my calculations, Stork should have made it back. Why hasn't he shown yet? Have I miscalculated my helmsman, or did Cyclonis damage him more than I realized?' Grunting, Aerrow climbed to his feet and shoved his concerns to the back of his mind for later. He couldn't afford to be distracted by worries that he had no control over.

"A broken Sky Knight with a broken squadron. How pathetic."

Ignoring the jibe, Aerrow allowed his eyes to slip back closed. Piper's words 'you just need to integrate the imbalance' fluttered into his mind. He took a steadying breath and leaped upward, spinning his hilt-to-hilt blade to harness the kindling strength welling within him into a double helix. Pulling his good arm back behind his shoulder, the young Sky Knight anchored the blue lightning with his bound, right arm and caught the forming hawk wings with his left, focusing the raw power through his lightning-blade-staff. He thrust it forward, turning slightly to keep it harmonized, and sent a bolt of blue lightning at Dark Ace. It worked – at least mostly – enough to blast the Cyclonian commander into unconsciousness, anyway.

"We Storm Hawks might be less than whole at the moment, but you're the pathetic one." Without a backwards glance at Dark Ace's unconscious form, Aerrow leapt onto the commander's skimmer and took to the sky.

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><p>"Come on, Storm Hawks. Where are you?" Aerrow muttered to himself as he shot upwards through the raging battle. A cluster of enemy skimmers converged before him in an attempt to halt the Storm Hawk Sky Knight, but instead of evading them, he merely kicked up the throttle and sliced right through the squadron.<p>

"Gotta find my family . . . my team." The squadron leader flicked the radio on, scowling when the line echoed with Ravess' imperious violin music. His eyes flicked through the aerial chaos, but the Sky Knight couldn't locate the violinist. He leveled off his skimmer, firing a bolt from his lightning-blade when an enemy Talon got too close.

"This is _so_ not good." From his vantage point, Aerrow could see the labor camp below, crystalline energy flaring through the heavy square buildings. A dark frown tugged his lips. Brandishing her crystal staff, Master Cyclonis herself was quickly quelling the Merb slave revolt that began at the onset of the battle. His thoughts turned to Herron and Radarr – and Piper. "Stay safe, guys."

"Hey, Aerrow!" Junko and Finn blazed across his wing. "Long time no see!" A swarm of enemy skimmers buzzed in their wake.

Grinning, Finn looped around, pinching the entire group between him and Junko. He flashed Aerrow his trademark finger-pistols. "Yeah, we were afraid you'd miss all the fun!"

'Nothing gets those two down.' Aerrow returned his wingman's comic salute, but couldn't match his grin. Even by his most conservative calculations, Stork should have been back with the _Condor_ long before now. 'Was Dark Ace right and Stork fled both sides?' Despair – another new emotion – sneaked into the edge of his heart. With a grimace, Aerrow forcefully shoved the unwelcome feeling away.

"Aagh!" Finn's shriek snagged the Sky Knight's attention and Aerrow watched Junko dive to catch the marksman as his ride was shot out from underneath him. The spiky-haired sharpshooter smacked into the nose of his best friend's skimmer with a pained squeak. "Going my way?"

"So, _so_ not good." Aerrow rolled beneath a trio of enemy fighters. He flicked his lightning-blade out as he flashed under them, gutting the Talon skimmers and sending them spiraling to Merbia's swamps. Movement out of the corner caught his eye. "What? Cyclonis must have called in her _whole_ invasion army since Terra Merbia is so close to Cyclonia!" A fleet of large battle cruisers swooped over the terra's borders, barreling straight at his little squadron. Heart sinking at the sight of the Cyclonian armada, Aerrow struggled with the dread realization that they had all but lost the battle. "We really are doomed."

Gritting his teeth, Aerrow kicked back the throttle and strafed the nearest battleship. His lightning-blade flashed out, but the weapon ineffectually skidded off the cruiser's crystal shielding. "Not even a scratch!" Aerrow shook away the disheartening thought. He would go down fighting. The young Sky Knight looped around for another pass, but startled when he heard the deep baritone call of the _Condor_. "Stork!"

Horn blaring, the carrier ship surged from the billowing cloud layer, Stork at the helm. His hair and torn uniform still wet with lake water, the pilot shoved the wheel forward, smashing a group of Talons from the sky. An evil smirk quirked the Merb's lips. The breathing apparatus – reclaimed from the trees above the crash site and used to get down to the sunken ship – still dangled from the helm.

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><p>"Miss me?" Leaning heavily on his ship's baritone horn, Stork banked the <em>Condor<em>, bringing the carrier ship through the thick of the battle. A squadron of Talon fighters broke away from their strafing run on Aerrow and converged on the ship, and he engaged the onboard blasters, smashing them from the sky. "Chance of paralyzing, inescapable doom . . . 100%" Stork yanked hard on the helm to avoid a direct cannon shot from one of the Cyclonian battle cruisers. A cascade of muddy water rushed from the ship's hold, swamping the Talon skimmers beneath him. His pale yellow eyes sought his squadron leader, the evil grin widening on his face. It had taken him a while to recognize it, but he realized that he _could_ trust Aerrow to always act in a prescribed manner. While his Sky Knight may, out of necessity, abandon those he cared about, Aerrow would always come back. As would he. "Their doom, that is."

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><p>"<em>Yes<em>! I hoped . . . I _knew_ . . . you'd be back!" Heart leaping at the sight of his helmsman, Aerrow looped around Ravess, finally blasting her violinist from the sky and clearing the airways. "I sure missed you, buddy." Aerrow threw a salute to his helmsman. Even though the battle was lost, he was glad to have the carrier pilot for the final showdown. "We might be going down, but we'll go down together."

"Not today, Aerrow." Stork leaned on the _Condor's_ horn again, chuckling when her baritone call echoed – answered by a symphony of ship horns. Behind the _Condor_, the entire free Merb militia billowed from the clouds, flanked by every Sky Knight squadron in the quadrant. "I hope you don't mind, Aerrow, but I brought a few friends."

The Sky Knights and free Merb alliance surged into the Cyclonian ranks with a deafening rush. Blue and scarlet blossoms erupted across the field, the contrails of fallen skimmers snaking down through the sky to mark the battle's progress. Engines shrieking, the perfect storm of fighters tore as one into the enemy ranks.

Stork twisted to shout over his shoulder, addressing the young Merb Sky Scouts who had stowed away on his ship when he had briefly touched down on the free colony. "Sky Scout Troop 890, form up! The Scout's Manual says that we always have a plan!"

"Yes, sir!" Excitedly saluting, Griffin tugged on his bright red bandana and hopped into the cannon operator seat. "Watch the cool moves I can do with this!" The young Sky Scout extended the crystalline cannon barrel and sighted in on the enemy fighters. He eagerly pulled the trigger, nailing an entire Talon squadron with a great gob of chartreuse gunk and sending the mass of glued skimmers to stick on the side of a nearby battle cruiser. Overbalanced, the battleship listed alarmingly to the side, running down a squadron of its own fighters in its attempt to correct its course.

"Just don't hit anyone we know," Stork muttered darkly, though his smirk remained steady. His eye caught on the flash of wings outside the _Condor's_ windshield and he shot Pidge a thumbs-up. "Do your thing, kid."

Nodding at the gesture, the scrawny Sky Scout clung to the back of a giant-gallumpus, his blue bandana whipping in the wind, trilling instructions to the great roc-like bird. He pushed his glasses up his nose with one hand and yelled in triumph as the gargantuan bird latched onto the roof of another battlecruiser, shredding the metal and tearing it from the sky. He clutched Master Cyclonis' shielding crystal in his hand, protecting him and his mount from the crystal energy strikes of the swarming Talon fighters.

"Good one, Pidge" Patiently waiting on one of the bridge chairs with his hands folded neatly in his lap, Owlsley cheered on his fellow Sky Scouts. The thicker-set Sky Scout was eager to join the battle, but his Sky Scout Master's dire warnings kept the mechanically-inclined young Merb in check. He had never heard of a Katerian-dragon-cat, but he had no doubt that Stork knew where to find the beast and would have no qualms about carrying out his worse-than-death threat if Owlsley "improved" any of the _Condor's_ systems. The young Merb straightened his light orange bandana, cleaned his glasses, and peered out the viewport. "Sky Scout Master Stork, when's it _my_ turn?"

"Soon." Stork tossed Owlsley the box of targeting crystals he had 'liberated' from Master Cyclonis' desk. "While you're waiting, help Griffin tag the larger cruisers with the goo-gobbed crystals." The carrier pilot's eyes darted across the chaotic aerial battle, seeking the warp crystal array. It would be catastrophic if Cyclonis managed to warp the resistance forces somewhere where she could re-enslave them. He would _not_ let that happen. He located the huge crystalline machine perched on top of a rocky plateau and turned to Owlsley. "Remember the plan, Sky Scout! Your turn."

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><p>"I really hope that I know what I'm doing," Stork muttered beneath his breath as he extended his buggy's propeller and engaged its proton impeller. He cast a final glance over his shoulder at his beloved <em>Condor<em>, Owlsley at the helm, and Pidge with his giant-gallumpus shadowing the carrier. Griffin was still tagging Cyclonian cruisers with targeting crystals using the _Condor's_ one working onboard cannon. The green-skinned carrier pilot shoved the twinge of anxiety from his gut. Sky Scout Troop 890 would do fine – after all, it was only a handful of years ago when _he_ was their age – and by then he was already helping to run the Merbian underground. With a sigh, Stork forced his thoughts away from the scouts and his ship, and focused on the glittering crystal array looming before him. By his calculations – and by the last report that he had overheard from Dark Ace – the warp machine should be cool enough to use again. He wasn't about to let the Cyclonians use it on his friends.

"Good, no guards. All the Talons are engaged in the firefight." Stork landed with a jounce and skidded his buggy, turning a half-circle on the plateau. He leapt from the skimmer. "Not that it's likely to stay that way." The Storm Hawk dashed over to the convoluted control panel, eyes skimming over the many dials and toggles. "Just have to reset the coordinates . . .." Flipping a few switches, Stork carefully reset the coordinates and recalibrated the targeting system. "Almost got it."

"Rather, I've got you, Stork my pet."

"Eeep!" Squawking in alarm, Stork whipped around, bringing his arms defensively up. Terror – and submission – constricted his lungs at the sight of his master standing near the path that lead to and from the plateau. Forcefully shoving away the suffocating reaction, Stork backed up, trembling and wheezing in panic. A strangled squeak escaped his lips when his back bumped up against the empress' machine. A portion of his mind noted the spiked collar and chain that the dark empress still wore, and noted the fury in her deep blue violet eyes. The ingrained phantom pain of her ire wracked his wiry frame. Stork hesitated, struggling between his determination and his master's desires. "You. You're here. Master, . . . Cyclonis."

"Always." Indigo eyes flashing in determination, Master Cyclonis stepped up to the carrier pilot and leisurely looked him up and down. Her lips curved into a sinister smile and she slowly ran a hand down his cheek. "Come. You know that you will obey me."

Groaning at the dark empress' command, Stork took a stumbling half-step forward, steadying himself with a quickly-released grasp at her robe. His trembling ceased, and he wilted beneath her touch, falling to his knees.

"There. That's better, isn't it, my pet?"

"Get away from _my_ Storm Hawk, Cyclonis!" Diving down, Aerrow jumped from Dark Ace's skyride, allowing the skimmer to skid across the rocky ground to smack against the warp array abutment. A grim frown locked onto the young Sky Knight's face and he leapt forward. The sight of his subjugated helmsman infuriated him. "You will never enslave him again!"

"Stork is mine," Master Cyclonis replied, and slowly slid her crystal staff into a ready position. A cunning smirk quirked the corner of her mouth. Anger and guilt and determination and conviction simmered in the Sky Knight's emerald eyes. But behind all that, hiding behind the courage and rage, she could see fear. Fear for his helmsman? fear for his squad? or just perhaps, fear for himself. "And you soon shall be."

"But not if you're not here." Strengthened by the presence of his Sky Knight, Stork forced himself to turn away from Master Cyclonis and shakily pulled himself up the warp control panel. Squeezing his eyes shut against the hazard of disobedience, the Merb pilot drew in a steadying breath then glanced at the sky. He hoped that Pidge was watching and ready to have his giant-gallumpus gust the Talons apart from the good guys.

He activated the machine.

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><p>"No!" Master Cyclonis screamed in rage as her Storm Hawk initialized her warp crystal array, wiping the skies clear of Talon fighters. She tore at the targeting crystal embedded in a gob of chartreuse gunk that Stork had stuck to her burgundy robe when he'd stumbled against her. A flare of amethyst ripped her and her troops from Terra Merbia, depositing them in the sweltering jungle of Terra Zartacla. "He escaped again!"<p>

"Well, what do we have here?" Surprised to see a Cyclonian armada warp in to his prison terra, Mr. Moss banked his tricked-out skyride, Bessie, and cut her powerful crystal engine. The Cyclonian warden looked up at the dark empress entangled in a vine-strewn, moss-draped cypress and extended a hand to help her down. "What can Ah do y'all for, Master Cyclonis?"

"You lose some." Taking a calming breath, the Cyclonian empress took stock of her situation. She'd lost the Merbia shipyard, but really, the Merbs had proved to be more of a hindrance than they were worth – the fabled Albatross around her neck. Then her thoughts turned to her pet Stork, and to the fear that she saw in Aerrow's eyes. "And you win some."

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><p>AN:

The fabled albatross is from _The Rime of the Ancient Mariner_, by Samuel Taylor Coleridge. (And yes, for those who had been wondering, the name of the Renegades' carrier ship was also derived from this poem.)

It's not quite over yet! Stay tuned . . .


	12. Chapter 12

Storm Hawks:

"**Truth or Suicide"**

(This story takes place after episode (36 – 210) "Scouts Honor"

and after my fanfic "Something Like That")

Rated T.

Disclaimer: Storm Hawks is a Nerd Corps Entertainment, Inc. Original Production.

**When nightmares come true and the present meets the past, the only way out . . . is through. It's Truth or Suicide.**

**Stork centric, but all involved. While it is not required to read my last fic "Something Like That" – this story does reference events from that title.**

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><p>"The. Best. Sky. Scout. Master. Ever!"<p>

"Watch the spine!" Stork disappeared under a tangle of arms and legs as he was tackled full-on by Sky Scout Troop 890.

"W-well, you'll be pleased to hear that the last of the people from Terra Neon have been sent home, and the ex-slaves are rebuilding Merbia with the colony's help. There's a lot of w-work, but we are used to hard labor. Your scout troop insisted on staying on mainland Merbia to help with the cleanup." Herron smiled fondly as he watched the young Merbs disentangle themselves, and extended a hand to help young Stork from the _Condor's_ deck floor. It was heartwarming to know that the colony Merbs so revered those from their homeland for their sacrifices to keep the colony free, safe, and hidden. It would be so easy, especially for the rising generation, to disdain the mainland Merbs for their phobias and paranoia. "Y-you know, those three have convinced the Sky Scout Association that this is their phoenix project. Which is particularly impressive since they are technically too young to have achieved the highest Sky Scout rank. Personally, I think they just w-wanted an excuse to stay with you a little longer, Stork."

"Oh, they deserve it. Though now they'll use their new status to bring inevitable doom upon us all, I'm sure." Stork suppressed a pleased grin and turned back to study his plans for repairing the _Condor_ using the resources from the shipyard. The carrier ship was currently docked in the Cyclonian facility, and as long as he took care not to look out the window, he was fine. "Um, so how is the return of the stolen landmarks going?"

"Almost done!" Owlsley piped up, bouncing onto the couch that curved around the mission table. "But we had to stop to let the warp array cool down again." The mechanically-inclined Sky Scout pulled out a warp crystal that he had 'borrowed' from the gigantic array, a wide grin on his face. "If Piper hadn't kicked me off the array, I could have made the cooling unit way better."

"Also Merbia gets to keep most of Terra Neon's midway!" Jumping up and down on the couch excitedly, Pidge and Griffin gave each other a sky-five. The Storm Hawks had managed to return most of Atmos' stolen landmarks with minimal damage – though the Terra Neon midway was mostly a lost cause. The destroyed amusement park would stay in Merbia's wilds and the midway would have to be completely rebuilt on Neon. Griffin especially loved the demolished rides as a great place to practice all his cool moves, while Pidge had found a wide variety of wildlife to talk to that had moved into the new habitat.

"And the Wayside is c-causing some grief." Herron interjected, lifting Griffin from off the tactical table. The multi-platformed terra was proving especially difficult.

"You know, we could just take some of the roller coaster rails to transport over with King's Castle Burger," Owlsley interjected, popping in front of the Storm Hawk carrier pilot. "And then just 'roller-table' it into place!"

"Or I could just have the giant-gallumpus fly it back."

"Umm humm. And have it devour the whole burger stock on the way there." Stork pried the scrawny Sky Scout from his back. While the idea was absurd, he was actually tempted to take Pidge's suggestion to Piper. If not actually moving the stolen monuments, they could perhaps have the gargantuan bird fan the array with its wings. The great bird's help would certainly cut down on the warp crystal array's cooling time and help speed the whole process along. Chuckling, Stork's gaze settled on the three young Sky Scouts bounding around the _Condor's_ bridge, a grin quirking the corner of his mouth. "Last time when I said I'd take you camping again, this wasn't what I had in mind."

* * *

><p>"Everything appears to be getting back to normal . . . if there is such a thing as normal for the Storm Hawks," Aerrow murmured softly to no one in particular as he watched the happy jumble of Merbs on the couch. 'On the surface, Stork truly seems to be okay, but I can still see the deadness in his eyes that Cyclonis forced into my pilot.' Heaving a sigh, Aerrow looked down at the make-shift survival kit in his hand. After sitting at the bottom of a lake for more than a week, the <em>Condor<em> was a mess, and they were just now getting around to the cleanup. The Sky Knight moved to toss the emergency pack into the junk pile, but paused, considering. "Actually, this came in real handy." Instead, Aerrow grabbed a marker and sketched a dredger-tree on the heavy, metal box and stuffed it in the bridge storage locker.

"Aerrow, do you have a minute?"

The squadron leader looked up to see Piper, a sheaf of wrinkled papers clutched in her hands and a serious look on her face. Instinctively, he knew it was about their helmsman. "For you, Piper, I'll even spare two." Aerrow's cocky grin faded. Judging by Piper's grim expression, Aerrow knew he wasn't going to like what she had to say. They had talked about Stork's situation before – both what Piper discovered about the Merb Sky Knight from Cyclonis' file as well as what Aerrow learned from Herron. Determined not to make things any worse for their helmsman, the Storm Hawks' Sky Knight had decided not to tell the carrier pilot what they had uncovered about his past. He motioned for the crystal specialist to join him out on the observation deck. "This is about Stork again, isn't it?"

"Look, I know you said that we shouldn't tell Stork about who he is and what the Cyclonians did to him. But I've talked to him . . . don't worry, I was discreet . . .. But Aerrow, he was only four years old when he lost his parents. Stork remembers 'Mommy' and 'Daddy,' but not their names or what they 'did for a living.'" Piper fought back the pain in her own chest. She was about that same age when she lost her mother as well, and she still missed her. "How can we lie to him? Stork deserves to know who his parents were . . . who his family was."

"We _won't_ lie, Piper, . . . just not tell him everything that we found out." Aerrow took his crystal mage's hands in his and looked deep into her honey-gold eyes. If ever he needed her to understand him, it was now. The young Sky Knight's own damaged signature move, no matter how temporary, had very nearly torn him apart. Aerrow _knew_ what a broken signature move felt like. 'After all, how would I feel if, instead of three bird guys telling me that I was destined to become a Sky Knight and to rebuild the Storm Hawks, the guardians had told me, "_Sorry, you could have been a Sky Knight, but now you never will be_?"' A wry, self-depreciating smile tugged at the corner of Aerrow's mouth. At least now he knew what to ask Stork in _Truth or Dare_. "Besides, we're Stork's family now."

"Aargh!" Finn's high-pitched shriek interrupted their conversation and Aerrow and Piper peered over the railing to the skimmer deck below. "Viper-eels!" The Storm Hawks' marksman, Radarr clinging to the top of his head, leaped back from the equipment lockers that they were sorting through down on the flight deck, yelling when the flooded compartment turned out to be slithering with an entire school of palsying-viper-eels from the Merbian lake. "Quick! Where's Stork's pan-o-cide?"

"Oooh hoo! Looky what's for dinner tonight!" Junko eyed the locker of eels with anticipation, licking his lips, oblivious to Finn's and Radarr's look of revulsion. "Ohhh, sushi rolls for everyone!"

Giggling, Piper smiled warmly as she watched Radarr dig out his handy wrench and brandish it defensively as Junko tried to catch the slippery eels. The dark-skinned girl turned back toward Aerrow, but her gaze slipped past her Sky Knight. Instead, Piper's eyes settled on Stork still on the bridge, the smile fading from her lips. Her heart twisted again and she bit her lip, saddened that – despite being their teammate for almost two years – their helmsman felt that he had to bear the burden of his past alone. 'And after what Master Cyclonis just did to him, he can't bear his current burden alone as well . . . that would practically be suicide.' A doleful sigh escaped her lips. 'Stork always says that he's fine when I ask, but how much of that is a lie . . . just like he lied about his scars.' Piper shook her head, not knowing how to broach the subject with the extremely private Merb.

"But Aerrow, don't you think . . .." Before Piper could come to any conclusions, Stork dismissed himself from Herron and the Sky Scouts and stepped out onto the observation deck.

The carrier pilot turned toward Aerrow, a welding torch – not the little, jury-rigged soldering torch he had made on Merbia, but a large, proper torch – clutched in one hand. He slipped on his specially reinforced pair of sunglasses for eye protection. "Um, it's been long enough that you need to start gently using your shoulder . . . I found some suggested physical therapy exercises . . . that is, unless you'd rather not regain total use and strength."

Aerrow watched his helmsman deftly cut the 'Perfect Storm _Hawk_' casing from his chest. A sudden thought struck the Sky Knight at the Merb's expertise. Stork maneuvered the _Condor_ as skillfully as any Sky Knight handled his ride. Could those times when their helmsman guided his beloved ship through barrages of enemy fire or through the wastelands without a scratch be when his broken ability tried to kick in? It was weird to think that Stork would have headed his own Sky Knight team. Aerrow couldn't even imagine the paranoid Merb not being in his squadron family. Well, whatever _might_ have been, Stork was _now_ his Storm Hawk. Aerrow waited until Stork was done, then caught the pilot's eyes with his own, asking – once again – two things at once. "So . . . are we okay?"

"Yeah, we're fine." Stork flicked off the welding torch, letting the roller coaster casings clatter to the floor, spilling plush animals across the observation deck. The carrier pilot placed a hand on Aerrow's shoulder and carefully probed the joint to ensure it was still in place; only a slight tremor passed between the two of them. Subconsciously, Aerrow flinched at the touch on his still-healing shoulder. A wry smirk twitched the corner of Stork's mouth. "Or we soon will be."

Attuned to her Sky Knight, Piper caught the dual conversation between her two teammates and carefully folded the papers still held in her hands. A soft, bittersweet smile touched her lips. Their helmsman – their should-have-been Sky Knight – could never completely heal, but she knew that the Storm Hawks wouldn't let him bear the burden alone. He was, after all, family. "Okay, Aerrow. We'll handle this your way."

"Dudes, I don't know about you, but I'm ready for a break." Having left Junko and Radarr to clear the rest of the viper-eels from the _Condor's_ hold, Finn came up between Piper and their helmsman. He flashed a grin at his teammates. Merbia was the perfect setting; Stork owed him a really good _Dare_. "So, who's up for a round of _Truth or Dare_?"

* * *

><p>AN:

Whew, that's all folks!

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